The Hot and Cold of It
by uisceB
Summary: Alright, so technically she's supposed to be saving Storybrooke from evil again...Emma would kind of rather be wrapped up in Elsa though, no matter how cold it gets. Emma/Elsa Frozen Swan "deleted scenes" fic.
1. Tactile (4x02 White Out deleted scenes)

**A/N:** _Well hey there, haven't been here in a good, what, almost two years? I thought I'd sworn off all fanfic writing, but then these two completely stole my heart this season and I couldn't help myself…I had to do a fic with "deleted scenes" from each episode in which I convince you that this entire season is actually all about how ridiculously gay Emma and Elsa are for each other. Fair warning: this is mostly romance and humor, but there will be occasional moments of intense angst sprinkled throughout. The main focus is obviously Emma and Elsa, but there will be ongoing mention of Emma/Killian, as well as more ~detailed~ mention of past/somewhat-present Elsa/Ingrid in later chapters, which I think constitutes an incest warning. But mostly just enjoy the awkward smut and fluff. This first chapter is mostly G-rated with a side of nudity and awkward touching, but not to worry, there's more to…come…Takes place the night/morning after Emma and Elsa accidentally trap themselves at the ice wall._

* * *

><p>Apparently, seeing as the cold had never bothered her anyway, Elsa was in the habit of sleeping in the nude. And it should be noted that Emma didn't know this because she was <em>looking<em>, you know, not on _purpose._ It's just that when she got up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, the path to the kitchen led her directly past the pull-out sofa-bed the Charmings had offered up to Elsa, and it was…listen, it was impossible _not_ to notice the slumbering naked form of the young queen of Arendelle. She must have kicked the sheets off herself at some point during the night and now lay on her side with the sheets down to her waist, her arms comfortably outstretched in front of her, sort of like a cat.

She was turned away from the hallway so Emma couldn't see her face, but in the dim light she could make out the curve of her spine and it was…Well. As far as spines went, it was a nice one.

(Her shoulder blades were nothing to scoff at either, not that anyone cared about shoulder blades).

(Except that Emma kind of wanted to bite them).

(Except th...)

Water, Swan, Emma reminded herself sternly, and quickly padded away to the kitchen.

She stayed in the kitchen for a while. Not because she was avoiding going past the sleeping naked Elsa again, she was just really enjoying this glass of water.

She did a good job, for a while, of not thinking about anything, until she absently bit at the rim of the glass. She shouldn't have, because biting immediately induced thinking, which made her think of Elsa, which made her think of Elsa's shoulder blades, which framed Elsa's spine, which led down to Elsa's waist, which was just above Elsa's a…

…Feet...

Which was just above Elsa's feet.

That was all.

Scrubbing at her face with her hand, she reached into her pocket to phone Killian. He didn't answer, either because it was 3 in the morning or because he'd forgotten what button to push again, and Emma was kind of glad because she didn't really want to talk to him, she just wanted to…

She sighed. She didn't really know what she _just wanted_ to do. She wasn't even really sure why she'd tried call him.

So she set the glass down on the counter and crept back up to bed, keeping her gaze fixed firmly to the floor until she'd closed the bedroom door securely behind her.

* * *

><p>She woke late. The latest she'd woken in a long time. From the slant of the sun coming in through her window she'd pin it at around 10 or so. Maybe later.<p>

Fuck.

Bad form, Sheriff. _Bad_ form.

Pulling on a pair of jeans and grabbing a tank top off the floor, she sprinted down the hallway, nearly making it to the stairs before remembering she'd left her phone in her room.

Back to the room then. Phone. Where the hell was her phone. Under the pillow? _Inside_ the pillowcase, good, that was a good place for it. She checked the time. 10:26. David was going to kill her.

Pocketing the phone, she nearly made it past the threshold of her bedroom before realizing her tank top was still in her hand rather than on her body where it belonged, and quickly pulled it over her head.

Her timing was…less than ideal. She was still pulling the shirt down over her head as she exited her room, so she failed to see the approach of the young queen of Arendelle as she wheeled around the corner until it was too late. The two of them collided spectacularly, Emma rebounding and smacking her back into the wall behind her with a thud as something very hot and and wet soaked through her shirt.

"Emma!" Elsa yelped in surprise.

"_Gah_…" Emma replied, hands flying to the scalding hot wet spot on her chest. What the _fuck_…?

"Oh god, Emma, I'm so sorry!"

There were hands on her suddenly, blessedly cold hands, wiping at the scalding spot on her shirt. And that was nice, really, but those hands were awfully close to her boobs, so Emma caught the younger woman's wrists to stop her.

"It's fine- Elsa, I'm fine," she said, trying to get the queen to look at her.

Elsa still seemed zeroed-in on whatever was on her shirt however, and shook her head vehemently.

"It's not fine," she protested. "Yesterday I almost freeze you to death in an ice cave, today I almost burn you to death in your own house…what's next, I drown you in your own bathtub?"

Emma laughed slightly, mostly to discourage herself from thinking about what scenarios would lead to her and Elsa in a bathtub together, and lifted Elsa's chin to force her to look up at her. She let go of her chin quickly, because she didn't want it to be weird, but was suddenly caught as Elsa locked gazes with her, blue eyes wide with concern.

"I…you know, it's…it really is fine," Emma managed to get out, attempting to recover her wits. She offered a lopsided smile. "All great friendships start out with a little violence. Did I tell you Killian and I beat each other up at least a few dozen times before we started dating? The fact that you've jumped straight into trying to kill me…I take that as a very good sign."

The younger woman finally returned the smile, though her brow was still creased a little with worry. "I really am sorry," she offered again, biting her lip.

Emma made sure not to stare. "Don't even worry about it," she said, shaking her head. "I should probably change my shirt though...What _was_ that?"

"I…" Elsa suddenly flushed bright red, and stepped back a little ways, bending down to pick up a coffee mug from the floor. She held it up for Emma to see. "I heard you were awake so I…well, earlier I'd made some hot chocolate…Mary-Margaret showed me how to use that…device? The…heating? Device?"

"The microwave?"

"Such a ridiculous name," Elsa said, "but yes, that. And I just…I feel so bad about yesterday I wanted to do something nice for you, so when I heard you were up, I thought I'd…well I remembered Henry made you some last night, and my sister Anna used to drink it all the time when she was sick, or really whenever it was a day of the week, so I just thought I'd bring you…"

She exhaled irritably, as if suddenly realizing that she was rambling, and abruptly straightened, immediately regaining the same regal composure she'd displayed yesterday when Emma had first stumbled into her at the ice wall.

"I can make you more if you like," she offered shortly, tone suddenly more clipped, colder.

Emma was momentarily thrown off guard by the sudden change in Elsa's demeanor, then remembered to answer with a shake of her head. "I should probably head to the sheriff's station or my dad's going to have a fit," she said.

"David said he didn't need you to come in until later this afternoon," Elsa told her with a careful tilt of her head. "After yesterday, he thought you should take it easy this morning. He said he turned off your…phone…alarm…so you'd sleep in…I don't really know what he was talking about, but I don't think he expects you until later."

Emma couldn't help but smile a little bit. Elsa had fallen back into shyness at the words _phone alarm_, and that shyness seemed more _her_. Like the ice queen persona she'd met Emma with the day before and had used again just moments ago was just that…a persona.

"In that case," Emma said, "I will definitely take you up on that second cup of hot cocoa. I'm just gonna…" she jerked her thumb back at her room, "pop back in there and change my shirt first. But I'll be down in a sec."

Elsa looked at her closely. "You're _sure_ you're alright?" she asked. "That had to have hurt, I…" She dipped her gaze down to the exposed skin above Emma's shirt where some of the scalding hot chocolate had burned the skin red and started to reach her hand forward. She stopped herself at the last second, gaze shooting up to Emma nervously. "Sorry…May I?" she asked.

Emma nodded silently, not actually sure what she was agreeing to, but too busy trying to keep her breathing even to say anything.

Elsa reached her hand forward slowly again. "I forget to ask sometimes," she said with a guilty smile. "I…back in Arendelle I went for thirteen years without touching anybody…Anna always says that in the last couple years I've been making up for lost time by getting a little _too_ tactile sometimes."

"Why were you…" Emma interrupted herself with a loud gasp as icy cold fingers brushed against her collar bone, instantly flooding her burned skin with relief. She grabbed Elsa's wrist without thinking and held it as the freezing sensation slowly faded to comfortable normalcy.

"That was amazing," she breathed in surprise.

Elsa's blue eyes lit up and she smiled shyly again. "Least I could do," she murmured. She looked down and Emma realized she was still holding the younger woman's wrist in a vice grip.

She released her quickly. "Sorry, I…it was just really cold," she mumbled.

Elsa smiled again, stepping back a little. "Well I'll…let you get changed then," she said.

Emma nodded, giving her a small, tight-lipped smile, and watched her turn to go back down to the kitchen.

She swayed her hips _amazingly_ when she walked.

Emma rolled her eyes at herself and retreated to her room to find maybe an _actual_ shirt this time.

* * *

><p>Elsa, much to Emma's disappointment, didn't stick around to have hot chocolate with her.<p>

"Do you…have somewhere to be?" Emma asked as the younger woman headed for the door after handing her the scalding hot mug. She tried to contain a wince. Mary-Margaret may have taught the young queen what buttons to press on the microwave, but she feared Elsa might still not have the hang of it when it came down to timing; the mug felt hot enough to burn a hole through her hand.

"David said I should meet him at the station once you were up," Elsa answered over her shoulder. "He's going to help me look through the town records to see if we can find Anna."

Oh, right. Anna.

"Do you know how to get there?" Emma asked.

Elsa gave her a confused smile. "It's just down the street, we drove past it in your driving machine yesterday."

"Right, that's…Good. I guess your sense of direction's a bit better when you're not used to relying on GPS."

The confused smile became even more confused. Still a smile though.

Emma waved her hand apologetically in the air. "Anyway. Go. I'll be there soon."

There was really no reason why she shouldn't just go with Elsa _now_, but she was trying not to come off as clingy. Not that she _should_ come off that way, the sheriff's station was where _she worked_ after all. But she…was having trouble not making an ass out of herself right now and she needed a minute to pull herself together. A minute, maybe a couple of hours.

She exhaled with relief when the door clicked shut behind Elsa as the younger woman left to meet up with David. She also quickly put the mug of hot chocolate down on the counter because she was pretty sure it actually was going to burn a hole through her hand.

So.

Of all things…Emma huffed irritably. She wasn't so stupid that she didn't recognize a crush when she had one, it had just been so long since she'd had a crush on a _woman_ that she'd pretty much forgotten what that felt like.

(It made her fucking stupid, was what it felt like).

She'd been with girls a couple times when she was younger, once even with the birth daughter of one of her foster families when she was 17. There had even been an embarrassing couple of moments when she first came to Storybrooke where she couldn't help but wonder slightly about Regina…just a little bit…before quickly reasoning that if she ever tried anything like that Regina would probably kill her with a fireball to the face. Or a ripped-out heart.

But since then, Emma hadn't…she just _hadn't_. Not with women. And maybe it was partially intentional…these days, now that it was inevitable that whoever she dated would be a fairytale character, that extra dose of not normal was just a little too much, especially with a kid to think about.

Better for her to date a fairytale pirate who had tried to murder several of her closest friends, rather than a fairytale character who was also a woman.

She sighed, prodding gingerly at the side of the hot cocoa mug. Still hot, but not singe-your-flesh-off hot. She took a sip.

It tasted like hot chocolate, because it was hot chocolate, but Emma couldn't help but feel like there was a little bit of Elsa in there too. That was her imagination talking, she knew that, but that didn't stop her from thinking it.

And it was still a little too hot if she was honest.

She wondered if she'd be in a constant state of either too hot or too cold for as long as Elsa was here, and found she didn't mind the idea.

Pressing her palm into her forehead, she took her phone out and called Killian. She had the house to herself until this afternoon after all.

Killian must have been reading her thoughts; he picked up on the first ring.

* * *

><p>"So," Emma announced herself as she entered the sheriff's station, tossing her leather jacket over the back of her chair and looking over the ocean of files David and Elsa were pouring through. "How's it going over here?"<p>

"It's…" Elsa paused as she looked up at Emma then bit down on a smile, motioning to her own lips in the universal (and apparently _cross_-universal) signal for _your lipstick's smudged._

Emma's eyes widened in a silent thank you and she managed to wipe the smudge clean before David looked up to see. Much as she loved her father, he still seemed to be operating under the delusion that she was an infant, rather than more or less his same age. That she was also running around with a pirate of all things, did not sit well with him either.

David sighed, offering a smile in greeting as he missed the entire interaction. "Nothing so far," he said. "There's nothing to indicate whether Anna was ever even here to begin with. Except of course the necklace Elsa found at Gold's, but now that's gone too."

Emma chanced a glance at Elsa who stood tight-lipped but otherwise did not react. Emma knew _that_ look, she made it herself all the time. It was the look of someone who was completely distraught but didn't want anyone else to know about it. It made her suddenly and irrationally angry at this Anna girl for being missing.

"What about you?" she heard David ask.

She wrenched herself back to attention to find him looking critically at her. "Sorry?"

David glanced quickly at Elsa, and then back. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked. "You were freezing in that cave for several hours yesterday. I just wanted to make sure everything's good with you."

She flashed him her most convincing comforting smile. "Never better," she assured him. She put her hands to her hips, stepping up to the table. "Now. Tell me what I can do to help."

"Actually," David said, beginning to stand, "you can take over from here for me. I haven't eaten since this morning and I was going to run over to Granny's for a bite. You want anything?"

She shook her head, and David left, and suddenly she found herself alone with Elsa. For lack of knowing what else to do, she offered her a small awkward smile.

"Thanks for the uh…" she gestured at her lips and Elsa smiled back at her.

"It's alright," the younger woman said. "I had to do it all the time with Anna when she and Kristoff started seeing each other and she and I had to oversee a merger or settle some dispute or another. Our people were already having to tolerate having a queen who had ice powers, I figured they didn't also need to tolerate a lovesick princess as well."

Emma felt herself make a face at the world_ tolerate._

Elsa must have noticed the look because she quickly added, "Not that they _tolerate_ Anna, they love her. Just…you know. _One_ of us has to be…appropriate, and since it can never be me..."

That was much worse than her statement about being tolerated. And coupled with that earlier mysterious mention of having gone for thirteen years without human contact…Emma really frowned this time, couldn't help it.

"Well you make a very appropriate cup of hot cocoa," she informed the young queen, "that I've been able to tolerate just fine so far. So if your people ever give you a hard time, you're always more than welcome to come back to Storybrooke and stay with me."

Too much. That was too much, reel it in, Swan.

But Elsa was smiling at her again. She ducked her head shyly. "You don't have to do that," she murmured.

Emma tilted her head. "Do what?"

"Be nice to me," Elsa said. "I mean, I know you want to help me because you're the sheriff of your town, but you don't have to also b…And letting me stay with you, that's too much, you really don't…"

Emma circled around the table to stand in front of her, shaking her head. "I'm not being nice," she said. "I mean I'm…I'm being nice, but it's because I want to. Because, you know, you're…I like you. As a person."

Reel. It in. Swan.

Elsa just looked confused. "But you don't have to," she insisted. "You could have died yesterday because of me. You almost did."

Emma shrugged. "That's…kind of a typical Tuesday night for me though," she said honestly. She smiled, hoping it would encourage Elsa to, too. "Listen, I mean, if you'd just stood there cackling and watching me freeze to death, we'd probably be having a really different conversation right now, but you held my hand the whole time, and you talked to me, and you listened to me say stupid things and you smiled at me…and sure, then you threw hot chocolate at me, but then you made that better too so…I don't know, Elsa, I guess you're just a likeable person. I have no _choice_ but to like you."

Elsa's lips twitched into a small smile, and God, her eyes were so blue. And her lips were so...

"And we're going to find Anna," Emma went on, interrupting her own thoughts because speaking was the only thing that was going to keep her from leaning in and kissing Elsa right now. "And we're going to find out who's keeping that ice wall up. I promise."

Elsa looked down, like she was overwhelmed, but slid her hand over the top of Emma's and squeezed.

Right. Tactile. Emma had forgotten about that. The queen's hands were cold, not icy like they had been when she had soothed Emma's burn, but still colder than Emma was used to. Certainly colder than Killian's. And soft. So. Fucking. Soft. Emma squeezed back, letting her thumb brush up over the sharp ridge of Elsa's knuckles.

She saw Elsa bite her lip against a smile at the movement and Emma's heart broke a little bit. Thirteen years without touching a single other person. What the hell was that about?

She was just mustering up the courage to ask when suddenly the front door to the station burst open and David marched in carrying two paper bags from Granny's Diner.

"Who wants hot dogs?" he asked cheerfully.

And Emma, who had made a firm decision to eliminate the word "adorable" from her vocabulary long ago, nearly melted from the adorably confused expression that took hold of Elsa's features at his words.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Okay, after a quick re-viewing of the episode…I realize that timing-wise this chapter is a bit off, as Emma and Elsa don't find out the ice wall is being kept up by someone else until the morning after the cave-in incident. My bad. Just…just pretend it all works, okay, I promise to be better about the timeline in future chapters. Pinky swear._


	2. Mr Williams (Rocky Road deleted scenes)

**A/N: **_Takes place directly after the events of episode 3. Like, directly after. We'll call it...20 minutes after._

* * *

><p>She had told Killian she wasn't in the mood for a drink or a man when he asked.<p>

Well it was half true, she thought, as she unscrewed the top of a bottle of Evan Williams and took a swig straight from the bottle, no glass.

She barely contained a shudder. She and Evan Williams were not good friends- Evan Williams was in fact her _least_ favorite of the whiskey family, and he gave her a hangover the likes of which neither Jack, Jameson, nor any of the others could come even close to. But she insisted on buying him anyway, just to prove she could.

Also because he was the cheapest.

She took another defiantly large gulp.

"Emma?"

She turned automatically at the soft voice, and promptly choked on a mouthful of her alcoholic nemesis as her eyes fell on Elsa standing in the stairwell, dressed in an old gray T-shirt of hers, and a pair of her old blue and white boxer shorts.

Elsa was wearing her clothes. _Hers_. Her old _reject_ clothes, sure, but they were _hers_. She had a sudden flash of understanding for the men she'd been with who always seemed to like it when she wore their shirts the morning after. It was like she had some kind of claim, however small, on Elsa. Like she'd provided her with something, like Elsa needed something from her, or even wanted to be wrapped up in something that was hers.

Not to mention the way Elsa _looked_ in her clothes. She'd never given much thought to what a fairytale queen of Arendelle might do to keep in shape, but whatever it was, it was…Well. It was working for her. Those _legs_…

(And of course there was the entire lack of bra. But Emma wasn't going to go there, not even briefly. There'd be no coming back from that).

She gave one last choking cough to clear her nose and throat of the deadly sting of Evan Williams and suddenly realized Elsa was laughing at her. It was a shy sound, but the smile she bore broke all the way across her face, pure and full and unbelievably bright.

"I really am a menace to you, aren't I?" the young queen giggled. "I don't think a day's gone by since I've met you that I haven't almost killed you in one way or another."

Emma just continued to stare at her, trying to think of some way, any way, to respond.

"You're wearing my clothes," she stated finally.

Elsa sobered almost immediately, worry creasing her brow once again. "Mary-Margaret gave them to me…to sleep in…" she stammered. "I can…that is…would you rather I didn't…?"

Emma's mouth fell open to protest, but Elsa pushed ahead, nerves making her ramble.

"…because if you want them back, I don't need them really," she babbled. "I don't even…" She blushed, her voice lowering. "I don't even normally…_wear_ clothes…when I sleep, I mean…just because…well, you know…"

"Yeah, I kn…" Emma swallowed, catching herself, "…would imagine."

She cleared her throat, flashing a smile to return things to normal. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way," she said. "I just…I was surprised to see you in normal clothes, that's all. Or, you know, _my_ normal."

Elsa flushed, but looked relieved. "I'm not really used to showing this much skin," she admitted, looking down at herself, "not around other people. In Arendelle, I was always as covered up as I could get away with…until a couple years ago, anyway. That ice dress was the most skin I think I've ever shown."

"Ice dress?" Emma asked, surprised. "You don't mean the one you were wearing earlier is actually made of…"

"Oh, no," Elsa said, shaking her head. "I had one at one point, that I made myself. But no, the one I've been wearing here is just modeled after my old ice dress- it became pretty clear in Arendelle that clothing made of ice isn't exactly…_practical_…when I'm having to deal with council meetings or temperamental dukes or what have you. I found this amazing tailor who was able to make me a couple dresses that mimic the feeling of the ice dress though, so I…"

She broke off suddenly, seeming to realize she'd been talking for a while, and dropped her hands to her sides, grabbing self-consciously at the hem of the boxer shorts.

"These are nice too though," she said. "Very…breezy."

Emma hated how easy it was for her to smile every time Elsa spoke. But when she tried to contain this particular smile, she just wound up choking a little more on the remaining sting of Evan Williams.

Elsa cocked her head curiously. "What are you drinking?" she asked.

"What, this?" Emma blurted, unnecessarily. She looked down at the bottle in her hand guiltily, like Elsa had caught her doing something shameful, and shook her head.

"Nothing," she said. "Just a…"

"Is that whiskey?" Elsa asked, stepping forward.

Emma looked at her in surprise. Elsa glanced up, catching her look, and rolled her eyes a little.

"Just because I'm a queen doesn't mean I don't know how to drink," she said teasingly. "In fact I'm…pretty sure it's a prerequisite."

She reached forward and took a hold of the neck of the bottle, fingers brushing just slightly against Emma's. "Do you mind?" she asked.

"I…" Emma took a moment to search for her voice in between those blue eyes and the fingers brushing hers. She cleared her throat.

"I don't think you'd like this," she said finally. "This is Kentucky whiskey which I'm pretty sure is only a step or two up from tar, it might actually kill you."

Elsa's smile widened at one corner and she pulled lightly, separating the bottle from Emma's grip.

"I'm not that delicate, Emma," she said, and lifted the mouth of the bottle to her lips.

And Emma did her very best not to stare. But Elsa was staring directly at _her_ the entire time, keeping their gazes locked even as she tipped her head back to take a full swill of the drink.

Emma felt her own eyes dip traitorously down the young queen's long slender throat as she drank, and used every last ounce of willpower she possessed to ignore the series of impulses that shot through her demanding that she lunge forward and latch onto that throat with lips, teeth and tongue.

And then all too soon, Elsa was lowering the bottle, dropping her head back down again to swallow. She kept eye contact with Emma the entire time, face a completely unreadable mask as her throat bobbed.

The young queen stood gazing at her motionlessly for a long moment, perfectly composed.

Then all at once her face split into a wide grin and she broke into a series of choking coughs, laughing through them until her eyes watered.

"You're right," she giggled as the coughing fit subsided, wiping a tear away. "That was the most horrible thing I've ever tasted in my life."

* * *

><p>Horrible or not, it didn't stop the two of them from settling down on the couch in front of the window and passing the bottle between them for the next several hours. They both took daringly large sips of the stuff in the beginning, unofficially challenging each other to bear as much as they could.<p>

Elsa was much better at concealing her reactions to the foul liquid than Emma was, at least briefly, but she always ended up laughing and sputtering anyway, while Emma just grimaced and winced her way through it.

It wasn't long before it just started to feel warm, though, not so stingy, not so unpleasant. Just warm and kind of nice.

"I like this," Elsa said at last, as she eased out of a final giggle fit, leaning her cheek against her knuckles. She smiled at Emma and it was a little bit of a crooked smile, lazy and unguarded and Emma loved it. The queen held up what was now an embarrassingly close-to-empty bottle and amended, "I mean I don't like _this._ But I like _this_." She gestured in a round-about sort of way that wasn't really gesturing at anything at all, but seemed to maybe encompass the whole situation.

Emma couldn't help but snort a little disbelievingly. "You're not serious," she said. "After the day we've had today…?"

"No, not the day we've had today either," Elsa interrupted. "Today was…confusing. And scary. And…" She broke off, suddenly looking a little flustered. "But I like _this_," she said again. She swallowed. "Being here. With you. I like this."

She looked very young suddenly and Emma felt a wave of protectiveness crash over her that she wasn't expecting and wasn't quite sure what to do with.

"Well that's just the Evan Williams talking," she drawled, knowing even as she said it that she was falling back into comfortable defensiveness, trying to keep things light and distant. "I'm sure by tomorrow morning you'll be right back to trying to kill me again."

Elsa's lips twitched, but she didn't smile fully the way Emma had expected her to. "You're not afraid of me," the young queen said suddenly.

Emma tilted her head in surprise, not really sure where that came from. "No, of course not," she answered. "Why would-"

"Because most people are," Elsa said. "Whether it's in Arendelle, or here…you saw how people reacted today when Marian was cursed. Even at the ice wall that first night, David and Killian saw me and their first instinct was to come after me. Even your evil queen friend? Regina?"

"…I never know if 'friend' is the right word with her," Emma mused.

"Well even she thought I was the one who hurt Marian," Elsa finished. She pressed her lips together, looking at Emma searchingly. "But you were never scared of me. Not even when we were trapped at the ice wall."

"I mean Elsa, I hate to burst your bubble," Emma said, "but you're…you're not very scary."

Elsa was, in fact, the opposite of scary. She was sweet and she smiled beautifully and she had a seemingly permanent deer-in-headlights look about her that made Emma want to protect her from the world. It was the whole reason why she'd been so angry with Killian for disobeying her when she'd told him to bring Elsa to the sheriff's station. He'd brought her directly to the Snow Queen, directly into the line of fire…Elsa should never be in danger like that. Never. Never again. Not while Emma was around to have a say in matters.

Elsa was looking at her doubtfully, she realized. "I _am_ scary," the younger woman said simply. "You don't know me, Emma. The Snow Queen was right, I-"

"The Snow Queen," Emma interrupted firmly, and then sighed because she realized she wasn't sure what to follow that up with. The Snow Queen was…well she was fucking terrifying, honestly. The thought that she knew Emma- knew Emma _and_ Elsa- and that neither of them could remember anything about her…but Emma wasn't going to let the Snow Queen be terrifying. Not to Elsa. Nothing should threaten Elsa, nothing should terrify Elsa.

The air had taken on sort of a chill and Emma realized Elsa was silently working herself into a small panic. She needed to do something to comfort the suddenly and strikingly sober-acting young queen, so she decided to play to her strengths. Which, aside from hitting people, chasing people, and hitting them some more, included drinking.

"You're right, Elsa, I don't know you," she said. She reached her hand forward, taking the bottle of Evan Williams from Elsa, allowing herself to enjoy the pleasant shock of cold as their fingers brushed for just a second before settling back and unscrewing the top of the bottle.

"So," she continued, "we're going to get to know each other. If that's okay with you. We're going to play I Never."

Elsa blinked at her curiously for a moment, before her face split into this wonderfully crooked grin. "Really?" she laughed.

Emma stared, stunned. "What, you know it?" she asked incredulously. "You guys have I Never in Arendelle?" _Talk about a universal get-to-know-you drinking game._

"Of course," Elsa giggled. "Anna forced me and her fiance Kristoff to play it once…she thought it'd bring us closer together, stop me from antagonizing Kristoff so much."

"Why were you antagonizing your sister's fiance?"

But Elsa angled her head mock-patronizingly. "Nuh-uh," she chastised. "Phrase it correctly."

Emma rolled her eyes, secretly feeling heat rise in her at the young queen's sudden playfulness.

"Fine, _your majesty_," she drawled. _"I never_ antagonized my sister's fiance."

Elsa smiled simperingly, reached forward and plucked the bottle of Evan Williams out of Emma's hand, taking a swig.

Emma waited, eyebrows lifting when she didn't say anything. "Well?" she prompted. "I don't know how you play it Arendelle, but here you usually give _some_ kind of explanation. Why did you antagonize your sister's fiance?"

Elsa wiped the corner of her mouth, which Emma refused to acknowledge.

"I thought his hygiene habits were questionable," the younger woman answered loftily.

Emma lifted an eyebrow at her. "This whole getting-to-know-you thing only works if you tell the truth," she pointed out.

Elsa smiled. "Oh, right, I forgot about your…what did you call it, your super power?" She sighed. "Fine. A couple years ago, Anna got into some trouble with a man she thought she was in love with. I just…wanted to make sure she wasn't making the same mistake with Kristoff. I needed to make sure nobody would ever hurt her again."

The air was a little cold again, and Emma realized she'd driven the game into emotional territory by making Elsa think about Anna. She felt a weird wave of…something…hit her, and realized she was both heart-warmed by Elsa's devotion to her sister, and…she felt stupid for thinking it, but also a little envious of it. Like, how could anyone compete with it?

Not that she would. Not that she had any reason to. She just...

"So what was the verdict on Kristoff?" she asked, hoping to steer this into a more positive direction.

Elsa smiled and the air got a bit warmer. "His hygiene habits are questionable," she answered. "And he spends too much time engaged in pretend conversations with the local wildlife. But he's a good person. Very warm, very genuine. He'll take good care of Anna."

Emma smiled at Elsa's smile. She couldn't help it. Just…Jesus, she just couldn't fucking help it.

Elsa lifted an eyebrow suddenly though, her smile taking on a distinctly impish air. "My turn," she stated. She looked at Emma thoughtfully, eyes narrowed, then smirked triumphantly. "_I've never_ driven a driving ma- a car," she said.

Emma scowled at her. "That's not fair," she said, "you don't even _have_ cars in Arendelle-"

"That would be the point," the young queen informed her airily, placing the bottle of Evan Williams purposefully in Emma's hand. "It's a_ game_, Emma. It requires _strategy_. First I start you off with simple questions I _know_ will get you drunk, then before you know it all your defenses are gone and I can start in with the _real_ questions."

For some reason Emma felt the urge to shiver. She _liked_ playful Elsa. And she liked lofty, strategic Elsa. She liked vulnerable Elsa too. She liked _Elsa_.

And maybe that was just the alcohol, but God, she really, _really_ liked Elsa.

(And she was also a little nervous about what Elsa's "real" questions might entail. She was, she could admit that).

But she took the bottle from the young queen with a grumble and forced herself to take a good-sized sip of its insides.

"Not much of a strategy if you're telling me what it is," she pointed out once she'd choked down the liquid.

Elsa waved her hand dismissively. "Soon you'll be too drunk to notice anyway," she said confidently.

Emma liked _confident_ Elsa too. She liked all these sides of Elsa, wondered how many there were, if she could see all of them, every side of her, every part of her.

Christ, she hoped she didn't look as flushed as she felt.

Elsa looked at her expectantly and Emma remembered she needed to come up with a Never. She hesitated. She knew what she _wanted_ to ask…but she suspected bringing up the 13 years Elsa had gone without human contact would bring the mood back down. She wanted to keep this light for a little bit longer, not because she was strategizing like Elsa, not because she wanted to get Elsa's defenses down before she asked her…she just wasn't quite ready to lose this comfortable playfulness they'd gotten to. She wasn't ready to lose Elsa's smile. Elsa could strategize all she wanted, Emma wasn't playing to win. For once in her life, she realized, she was just...playing to play. Any excuse to spend just a few more seconds looking at Elsa's smile.

So she cleared her throat and announced, "_I never_…made an article of clothing out of ice."

Elsa's eyes narrowed into a glare, but she took the bottle and tipped it down her throat. Emma held her stare and grinned at her.

"It was a self-defining _statement_," Elsa informed her a little sharply, once she'd finished drinking. She tilted her head, then said confidently, "_I've never_ been with a pirate."

Alright.

Emma decided to test the waters. Just a little. "Define 'been with,'" she said.

And it filled her with indescribable satisfaction when Elsa's confident air just _evaporated_ and her lips parted involuntarily in surprise, and her cheeks turned this amazing bright shade of pink.

Emma tilted her head casually. "Because, you know, if we're just talking proximity, then you have to drink too," she said.

Elsa's flush darkened considerably. "I'm not talking proximity," she said primly, but Emma heard a slight squeak underneath the otherwise polished tone.

"Then what are you talking?" she pressed teasingly, wondering how far she could take this.

Elsa sat rigid for a long moment, waiting out the blush on her cheeks, until suddenly her eyebrow quirked again and she said, "I've never made a pirate feel insecure about my feelings toward him."

Well. Ouch. Like, sure, well-played, but _ouch_. And also…

"How did you know about that?"

Elsa looked suddenly uncomfortable and more than a little apologetic. "He just…when we were in the woods looking for the Snow Queen, he mentioned…" she stammered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No it's alright, we uh," Emma waved her hand, shrugging and looking away, "we worked it out. I think."

She…they hadn't. Not really. Or they had? Maybe? They'd made out in the middle of the street for a bit, if that counted as "working it out." Maybe he had. Maybe Killian had worked it out, but she hadn't. That was more like it. She hadn't. And she couldn't, not so long as…well, not so long as Elsa was anywhere near her.

Suddenly irritated, Emma reached forward and took the bottle of Evan Williams from Elsa to take the swig she owed for her answer. When she was done, she locked eyes with Elsa, suddenly uninterested in playing nice, though still not willing to take the plunge into the mysterious missing 13 years.

"I've never put up a frozen wall around an entire town," she stated.

Elsa cocked her head, brow creasing. "Emma, this is just getting silly, you already know these things about me," she said. "Aren't we supposed to be trying to learn new things about each other?"

"Just trying out your strategy," Emma returned with a rigid shrug.

Elsa held her gaze steadily, looking wary, like she could tell Emma had just slipped into a mood. Emma inwardly smacked herself for making the younger woman uncomfortable, but at the same time…she couldn't help it, Elsa had hit a nerve. She knew it hadn't been on purpose, but it…

And Jesus, if she was honest with herself, she knew it was really herself she was irritated with. Because this stupid little thing she had for Elsa…it was just that. A stupid little thing. That she needed to get over, and quickly.

She shook her head, hoping that might work as an apology. "Fine, you're right, let me think of another one," she said.

"Emma." Elsa's cool hand suddenly slid over her knee. And stayed there.

Emma's eyes shot up to meet Elsa's gaze. The young queen looked troubled.

"Emma, I'm sorry, we don't have to play anymore," she said. "I didn't mean to make you upset. Why don't…Here, we'll change the game, just…three questions each. And we answer them truthfully, or not at all."

Emma cocked an eyebrow, feeling herself smile a little blearily. "Elsa, that's not a game, that's just a conversation," she pointed out.

Elsa bit her lip thoughtfully, then took the bottle of Evan Williams back. "Alright, yes, _but_, for every question we answer, we take a shot," she said, smiling and jiggling the bottle's contents mock-temptingly.

"Taking a shot of that stuff is supposed to be the enticement?" Emma asked doubtfully.

Elsa scrunched her nose. "Alright, for every question we answer, the _other_ person takes a shot."

"…But…"

"Emma, stop trying to be logical with me, I've had far too much to drink to be clear-headed enough to argue with you," Elsa interrupted shortly.

It was enough to make Emma smile again. Another side of Elsa. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized it was no good at all that she could be brought back into a good mood just by being shown another side of Elsa's personality, but she let it slide, not wanting to think too hard.

"Fine," she agreed.

Elsa nodded, sucking in a breath, and the young woman seemed suddenly nervous. "You first," she said. "Only real questions this time."

Emma glanced down, finding that Elsa's hand was still on her knee. Tactile. Tactile Elsa was her favorite. Tactile Elsa was going to be the death of her.

She leveled her gaze back up at the young queen and asked, "Why did you go for thirteen years without touching anyone?"

When Elsa's eyes immediately took on a slight look of panic, Emma opened her mouth to retract the question, regretting it as soon as she asked.

But then Elsa cleared her throat, looking down. "I uh," she said, then took a moment to compose herself. "There was an accident when I was little. With my powers. And I almost killed Anna."

Oh.

_Oh_.

"My parents thought it would be best, _safest_, if I kept my powers hidden from everyone, Anna included," Elsa went on. "I don't…think they ever meant to, you know, _banish_ me, it's just the way I internalized it, you know, their fear, and mine. I closed myself off from everyone. Especially Anna. My powers manifest themselves the strongest when I'm emotional, and Anna…means everything to me. I thought it was better to shut off the part of me that cared about other people. To keep them safe. I guess the years kind of…got away from me."

Well.

Shit.

"I…" Emma tried to think of something to say.

Elsa cut her off with a small smile though, shaking her head and lifting an eyebrow. "I think you owe me a shot, Emma," she said lightly. "Do you have a glass? We can measure it out."

Emma searched the younger woman's face for just a moment before she got up, looking for any trace of tears, any trace of sadness. There was a little sadness, right there in the corners of her mouth, and her eyes, but it seemed contained. Like maybe it was something Elsa had dealt with. Or had like, come to terms with or something.

So up she got to go to the kitchen. And wow, like…she was drunker than she'd realized. Not room-spinningly drunk, but it definitely took a couple steps before she was able to remember how to walk in a straight line. And she was almost positive she heard Elsa giggle softly behind her from the couch.

Refusing to acknowledge Elsa's enjoyment of her moment of awkwardness, she searched through the cabinets until she came across a glass that looked tumbler-ish. At this point she was pretty good at being able to eyeball a shot, so this would probably work. She didn't see a second one, but she figured, as they'd been sharing the bottle this whole time, Elsa wouldn't mind sharing the glass.

She managed to make her way back to the couch without stumbling too much and was relieved to find Elsa watch her approach with her open, crooked smile.

"So," Emma said, sitting down and taking the bottle from the younger woman. "_I_ drink because _you_ answered? That's how this goes?"

Elsa shrugged. "Maybe. I don't remember," she admitted with a laugh.

Emma rolled her eyes and poured, downing it as quickly as she could.

"Nice face," Elsa commented when Emma grimaced and shuddered.

"Hey, you're next, your majesty," Emma warned. "Question me away."

Elsa bit back a smile, sobering a little as she contemplated her question. "Alright," she said thoughtfully. "So we've established that neither of us remember the Snow Queen. But did you…I…" She paused, seeming to search for the right words. "Did you…feel anything...when you saw her?"

Emma cocked her head curiously. "Like what?" she asked.

"Like…" Elsa broke off. "I don't know…anything."

"I felt like I wanted to punch her in the face for coming after you and Killian," Emma offered. "But that's about it. Why, did _you_ feel something?"

"Is that your second question?" Elsa asked.

Emma shrugged. "Sure, why not. Actually, hang on, you owe me a shot first."

Elsa rolled her eyes, pouring herself…slightly more than an actual shot, Emma noticed. "All this drinking is getting in the way of our conversation," the queen muttered.

"You're the one who wanted to make it a game," Emma pointed out as Elsa downed the slightly-more-than-a-shot. "So? Did you…feel something when you first saw the Snow Queen?"

Elsa licked the last traces of whiskey from her lips while she thought. And Emma hoped it was just the alcohol finally really settling in her head, but she felt like she maybe swayed forward a little when she saw Elsa do that.

But hopefully she didn't.

Either way, Elsa didn't seem to have noticed and answered, "I…a little bit. I felt sort of…I don't know…drawn to her? I guess? I still can't remember having ever met her before, but I feel like, I don't know, I just wanted to be close to her."

Emma felt herself straighten at that. No, she didn't like that at all. And part of her wasn't even really sure what it was she didn't like, she just…she wanted Elsa to be drawn to her. Not the Snow Queen. _Her_.

_Her_ Elsa.

But Elsa looked down suddenly and shrugged. "Maybe I only felt that because she has powers like mine though," she said. "I don't know."

Yes. That had to be it.

Emma realized she was nodding and quickly stopped herself, reached for the tumbler and the bottle of Evan Williams.

"So?" she prompted as she poured. "Your second question?"

"Drink first."

She looked up to find Elsa's expression serious. So she obeyed. And…wow. She was…really starting to reach her limit on this Evan Williams consumption. Like, it needed to stop soon, because that pleasant warmth was quickly becoming a fuzzy sort of stupidity. And that fuzzy sort of stupidity was starting to make Elsa look even…somehow even better than before.

Also Emma's skin felt really hot from all this drinking, and she wondered if it would really be all that inappropriate to ask Elsa to just run her wonderfully cold hands all over her. Just to cool her down. That's all. Just…

"What's your favorite color?" Elsa asked.

Emma blinked at her, feeling just. Stupid.

"What?"

That crooked smile again. "My first question wasn't very…getting-to-know-you-like," Elsa said. "So I'm asking, what's your favorite color?"

Blue. It was blue. Blue like Elsa's eyes. Blue like Elsa's dress. Blue like the ice that had surrounded the two of them when they'd been trapped at the wall.

But mostly blue like Elsa's eyes. That blue. God, that blue.

"Red," she answered.

Elsa smiled, reaching over to pour herself another shot. "Okay," she said, once she'd knocked it back. Her lips were shiny from it and she darted out her tongue to lick the last bit of it away. "Last question. Go."

"I wanna…" Emma abruptly stopped herself, realizing that rather than asking a question, she had very nearly just informed Elsa that she had every intention of pinning her down on the couch and kissing her breathless.

She cleared her throat.

Try again, Swan.

"You're a fairytale character," she stated.

Nope.

Elsa cocked her head quizzically. "I beg your pardon?" she asked.

Damn it, Swan.

"What I mean is…you're not from this world." Emma swallowed. "And people from…not this world…are kind of…into this whole idea of like…true love."

That couldn't be her imagination that the room had just chilled again. Couldn't be.

"So I was wondering," she pressed on, "if you have…I mean you know, if you _have_ someone."

Elsa could have been a fucking statue for all she reacted. Except that…her cheeks were really red. And that could have been Evan Williams. But they were like, _really_ red.

"No," Elsa answered finally, eyes dropping to her hands resting in her lap. "I uhm. It's never seemed like all that good of an idea for me."

She pressed her lips together and cast those big eyes back up at Emma, offering a half-hearted smile. "And anyway, like I said," she hurried on, "everyone's scared of me anyway, so it's…it all works out. You know."

"But _I'm_ not scared of you," Emma blurted before she could stop herself.

There was a long sharp silence between them.

Fucking Evan Williams.

_Fucking_ Evan Williams.

"I mean…" Emma said.

"That's not…" Elsa stammered at the same time.

A second silence hit them.

"Sorry, what were you…" Elsa began.

"You should ask your last question," Emma said over her, hurriedly reaching for the tumbler and the bottle in order to down the much-needed shot that she owed.

"Emma…" There were cold hands around her wrists suddenly, stopping her.

Emma looked up to see Elsa leaned across the couch toward her, holding her wrists in place. The younger woman's face was so close, so suddenly and so unexpectedly close and Emma felt her gaze drop to Elsa's lips, just to keep from swaying forward into the endless blue of her eyes.

This close, Emma could smell her, just faintly. And it was such. A good. Smell. Mostly she just smelled like the cold, but also she smelled a little like whatever scent was mixed into the soap Emma used. She smelled like Emma's soap. Which meant that at some point, she had taken a shower in Emma's bathroom and had used Emma's soap. And that thought, _that_…

"I think I'm…going to go to sleep actually," Elsa was saying softly.

Emma blinked at her, momentarily confused.

"…I can't think of a third question," the young queen mumbled in explanation, casting her eyes away as she said it and even _without_ her super power Emma would have known it was a lie. "So I think I'll just…go to sleep. If that's okay."

There was something sort of pleading about the way she was looking at Emma, like she was begging her to just let her go and not question her further.

And it would have been impossible to ever say that something wasn't okay when it came to Elsa, but also Emma could feel the younger woman's cold fingers wrapped around her wrists, and Elsa's cheeks were flushed, and Emma realized they were both breathing in sync with each other and she just wanted to twist the grasp Elsa had on her so that _she_ would be the one in _Emma's_ grip, and then Emma would pull her in and kiss her hard and…

But she nodded, tearing her gaze away and back down to the tumbler and the bottle of fucking Evan Williams.

"Yeah sure, I mean it's getting pretty late," she agreed, her own voice sounding much too loud. "I'll just…get this all cleared up…"

"Well, let me help," Elsa offered, letting go of Emma's wrists and reaching instead for the bottle.

"No- no, it's fine, I've got it," Emma said brusquely, grabbing both the tumbler and the bottle and standing abruptly.

Shit. Too fast. _Too_ fast.

Jesus Christ but the room was very…in motion.

Vaguely she felt Elsa stand up next to her, her hands suddenly at Emma's elbows, steadying her.

"Are you okay?" the younger woman asked.

And Emma didn't want to look at that wide-eyed earnest face so she nodded and shrugged away from Elsa, making her way to the kitchen to at least deposit the tumbler into the sink and the empty bottle of Evan Williams into the recycling.

She mixed them up, of course, dropping the tumbler in the recycling with a sharp _clink_ that could only mean she'd broken it.

"Fuck."

And then she suddenly became keenly aware that Elsa had followed on her heels to the kitchen and was taking the bottle from her, murmuring something as she put it on the counter and then returned to slip her arm around Emma's waist, supporting her.

"Alright," Elsa was murmuring soothingly, "come on, let's get you up to bed."

"Elsa, I'm fine…" Emma mumbled, putting up as much of a protest as she could as Elsa took her arm and put it around her shoulders, beginning to walk her toward the stairs.

She felt Elsa's cool breath puff against her cheek in a small laugh at her protest. "I don't think whiskey's your drink, Emma," the young queen said softly. "Come on."

"It _is_ my drink," Emma argued in a mumble. It _was_. "I drink it all the time." Just usually not that _much_ of it.

Somehow they made it up the stairs, but Emma wasn't really sure how because she was mostly just aware of the fact that everything was uncomfortable now, but also she was half-pressed up against Elsa's body which was very very soft so in some ways everything was actually _really_ comfortable now.

But then suddenly she was spilled clumsily onto her bed and Elsa fell awkwardly half on top of her with a yelp. And Emma stared up at her, too aware of their breathing again and how it was in sync and kind of strained from having just walked up the stairs and stumbled onto the bed.

Elsa lingered for just a moment over her before pulling back. But not too much. She was still close, she still had one hand braced beside Emma, the other wrapped supportively around Emma's arm. But she was just out of reach.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, and her voice was breathy, just a little.

"It's too hot," Emma heard herself mumble, too busy watching Elsa breathe to stop herself from talking.

It got a small laugh out of Elsa though. Very small. But still a laugh.

And then Elsa lifted up the hand she'd had around Emma's arm, brushing stray strands of hair out of her face before sliding it down to cup Emma's cheek. And it was so _cold_ and it felt so _good_ that Emma sighed and allowed her eyes to flutter closed for just a moment, letting the cold wash over her.

When she opened her eyes again Elsa was gazing down at her, blue eyes ever so slightly glazed and Emma realized the younger woman's thumb was stroking gently at her cheek.

If Emma could purr, she would have.

But then Elsa's expression took on that same little hint of panic that it had earlier and she stilled her thumb.

"Good night, Emma," she said quietly.

So Emma nodded, not really sure why.

And Elsa hesitated, eyes wide. And then she bent down and brushed her lips softly against Emma's cheek.

Emma inhaled sharply at the shock of it and felt her hand fly up automatically to hold Elsa to her. And she thought she heard Elsa make this really soft sound before pulling away slowly enough that the corner of her mouth dragged just slightly against the corner of Emma's.

Elsa stared wide-eyed down at her as they separated, lips parting to say something, but then she snapped her mouth shut and pushed herself up to a standing position, hands coming up to tuck a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid back behind her ear.

Then she turned and left without a word, stumbling just a little at the doorway.

And Emma was too drunk to do anything but watch her leave. And for all the cold she felt, she may as well have been on fucking fire.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_P.S., just wanted to say thanks for all the follows...this is the first time I've ever tried writing a multi-chapter deal, so your faith in my ability to hopefully pull this off is very much appreciated. Also, totally feel free to leave reviews/comments/suggestions etc, I'm always happy to get a little constructive criticism...or friendly words...whichever_


	3. The Rest of It (4x04 deleted scenes)

**A/N: **_So…all that fluff from the first two chapters is going to start turning into smut at this point. Pretty sure that's what you're all here for anyway, but just wanted to give you a head's up. It won't quite reach the M rating that we're all waiting for in this chapter, but it is most certainly headed in that direction now. Also, this chapter's sort of a mix of not only "deleted scenes" but also kind of a "reinterpretation" of actual scenes from the show, but obviously in the context of Emma/Elsa. Soooo…yeah, that concludes the author's note for the day. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

><p>"Is that just the corset, where's the rest of it?" Elsa asked when Emma stepped out in the dress she was going to wear to dinner with Killian.<p>

And it took a lot for Emma to not respond with "Wherever you want it to be."

It took even more for her not to respond with "On the bed where you should be."

And even more for her not to respond with "Please will you come up to my room and let me fuck you senseless?"

(Emma had been drinking a bit since this afternoon, there wasn't much to be done about the non-sequiturs in her head).

"This _is_ the rest of it," she answered instead though, because that was the actual answer.

It was a short answer, and not a very forgiving one, Emma was aware of that. But that's sort of how she'd been with Elsa for the past couple of days now, ever since the whole Evan Williams fiasco. They said very little to each other, spending most of their time at the sheriff's station, a table apart, Elsa and David going through files in search of Anna, Emma going through files in search of the Snow Queen.

There was a lot of uncomfortable accidental eye contact that both refused to acknowledge or talk about. And Emma got it, alright, she _got it_.

It's not like this was the first time she'd had a run-in with unrequited affections.

It's just that this was the first time it had ever bothered her so much.

A rap on the door and Mary-Margaret was suddenly all a-twitter, beside herself with the excitement of _finally_ being there for Emma's…first date.

(Emma had tried briefly to explain to her mother that she was 30 years old and this was _far_ from her first date, but Mary-Margaret was just so excited it was hard to quell that).

(It got a little easier to quell it once Mary-Margaret brought out the camera, though).

And then Killian stepped into the house, for once just looking like a man instead of a pirate, admittedly still decked out in leather, but it was a good effort. And he…of all fucking things…he had his _hand_ back.

Emma couldn't resist it…she shot a quick glance over at Elsa, to see if she was paying attention, to see if she'd noticed the lengths Killian had gone through for her.

Elsa gave her a polite, if infuriatingly _bland_ look in return, and primly bent down to look through the newest archive of curses David and Mary-Margaret had unearthed for her to sift through.

Whatever. Emma had fucking offered to forego her date with Killian in order to help out…if Elsa was just going to ignore her, then so fucking be it. She could take a hint.

And anyway Killian was there, offering her his arm. Which now had a hand attached to the end of it.

She didn't so much as glance in Elsa's direction, just took his arm, weaving her hand downward until she could thread her fingers through his.

Elsa wasn't the _only_ one who could be fucking _tactile_.

And then she stepped outside with him and decided well who fucking wanted to hang around a fairytale queen who was too hung up on her sister and her own insecurities anyway when there was a perfectly willing and able pirate around?

* * *

><p>So the date was…fine. Good, even, at some points.<p>

Admittedly, she did catch herself a couple times (okay, three times actually) mumbling, "Why do you think she…" before stopping herself and realizing that, tipsy or no, now was _definitely_ not the time to be wondering out loud about Elsa kissing her on the cheek. And kind of on the corner of her mouth, sort of.

She was fortunate, each time she started to mumble that, Killian just assumed the "she" she was referring to was the Snow Queen and quickly cut her off with a jokingly reprimanding "Now now, Swan, it's a date. No work at the dinner table."

To be honest though, Killian seemed a bit…off…as well. He spent an awful lot of time looking down at his new hand with a weird amount of shock and varying degrees of accusation throughout the whole thing…and there was also that kind of bizarre moment when he decided to try to strangle the cagey British thief Emma had pulled out of the woods a few days ago, Will Somebody…but all in all, not a bad date. Not a bad date at all.

Which made it all the worse that she just…wasn't having a good time.

She was having a _good enough_ time. Good enough to smile, good enough to laugh when Killian said something charming which, as it was Killian, was pretty much all the time. Good enough even to kiss him, as heatedly as she could convince herself to, when he dropped her off at the apartment afterward.

But _good enough_ wasn't…fuck it, _good enough_ wasn't good enough.

And that was just shitty to Killian, who had done everything he could think of for her, had gone to Mr. Gold and _gotten his hand back_. For her.

She was indescribably relieved when Killian pulled away from the kiss first. It's not like it was a bad kiss, Killian was what, 200…500…whatever, he'd been around awhile, right, he knew what he was doing.

But she still…it's that she kept comparing him to Elsa. And granted, all she had to compare with was a drunken pity kiss on the cheek that had sort of accidentally brushed over to her mouth for a split second, but that had literally set her entire body on fire. It's all she'd been able to think about for days now, it was the reason why she could barely look Elsa in the eye, or answer her with anything more than short, terse sentences, because the younger woman had made it pretty clear that she wasn't…that that was the end of it, if the way she'd reacted to Emma's little blunder while they were drinking was anything to go by.

But it was still _with_ her. That completely innocent, delicate touch was still fucking _with_ her.

And Emma had never been the type to care much for _delicate_ type touching. Never. But the fact that it had been from Elsa made it kind of…_not_ delicate. It had actually burned, that's how good it had felt. It didn't feel delicate at all, it felt fucking excruciating and…amazing.

Long story short, Killian's tongue in her mouth was doing surprisingly little for her, so she was pretty fucking glad when it was over.

Which of course brought her right back to feeling like a shitty person again.

So she told him she'd had a wonderful time, and that she'd see him later, and Killian seemed distracted, still shooting oddly suspicious glances at his own hand, so she figured this was probably a good time to end the evening anyway.

Closing the door behind her as he left, she leaned back against it and sighed, trying to get herself together.

"So? How was it?" came the bright voice of Mary-Margaret and Emma nearly had a heart attack as she looked over to see that both her parents were seated on the couch, having actually waited up for her return. Like she was 15. Instead of double that.

Mary-Margaret bore one of the most starry-eyed optimistic expressions Emma remembered having seen in recent memory, while David merely scowled, arms crossed over his chest.

"Wow, I really need to get my own place," Emma mumbled to herself instead of answering, and turned to go upstairs.

"She seems happy," she heard Mary-Margaret say to David as she left.

Not for the first time, Emma questioned her mother's powers of perception.

* * *

><p>She took a shower and brushed her teeth, harder than was actually necessary, before she went to bed. By the time she was done, her parents were in their room, presumably asleep if the closed door and lack of light coming out was anything to go by.<p>

She toweled her hair dry as she walked down the hall to her room, honestly sort of glad to be back in a tank top and pajama bottoms. Like, yeah, she pulled off a dress pretty well, but she always felt a little…not like herself when she was wearing one.

Of course, if you asked Elsa, that wasn't a real dress anyway, just a corset.

Emma found herself smiling and quickly forced herself to stop that. Elsa wasn't a thing to smile about. Elsa was just…Elsa.

Still, Emma stopped just outside the door to Elsa's room. And it wasn't because she was being weird, alright, it was because there was something wrong- Elsa's door was closed.

Ever since she'd first arrived, Elsa had shown a certain discomfort around closed doors, insisting on keeping hers open at all times unless she was changing or…whatever. Even at night when she slept, she kept the door open, that's why Emma had accidentally discovered her sleeping naked that first night. Elsa never gave any kind of explanation about the door thing, but Emma assumed it had something to do with those thirteen years of not touching anyone, that self-banishment. It made sense, she guessed.

But here it was, her door, closed tight. Weirder still, the light was still on, Emma could see it coming through the crack. So Elsa was awake still, doing something she assumed, but had the door closed.

Immediately, and completely without her permission, she felt her ears perk up for any hint of sound coming from inside. Like, what was she expecting to hear anyway. But she did it all the same.

And then she kind of froze, because she _definitely_ heard a sound coming from inside.

And it was an odd kind of frozen feeling she had because, while her limbs certainly seemed completely paralyzed, her blood felt like it was rushing through her at such a rate that she was suddenly sweating. Standing completely still, exerting no kind of physical effort whatsoever, her heart had taken to pounding so hard she she felt actual _sweat_ beading at her temples and the back of her neck.

The sounds from inside Elsa's room weren't loud or anything- Emma practically had to press herself flat against the door in order to hear- but they were there, and they were pretty unmistakable. There were only so many reasons someone closed themselves inside a room and then…made those sounds. Those sounds that were a bit of rustling, and some harsh panting, and a sharp whimper or two.

Six, actually.

Emma counted six.

…Seven.

And it was like…she was actually too shocked to even be turned on, honestly. Like, she knew, in the back of her mind she knew that Elsa was, you know, a _person_, she had a fucking _pulse_, of course she had…of course she would…but it was still…such a _human_ thing to do, and it shocked Emma more than anything else.

…Eight. Nine.

Swallowing dryly, she realized that she was pressed up against a closed door in her parents' apartment listening to Elsa get herself off, and pushed herself away, making her way stiffly back to her own room.

She shut the door firmly behind her and cast her gaze restlessly around the room, as if she could find something in there that could help her make sense of her life right now. Unsurprisingly, the dirty laundry sprinkled around the floor offered her nothing in the way of life solutions, so she threw her towel over the back of a chair and sat herself down on the edge of her bed.

Okay.

Why was she so worked up right now.

Like, besides the obvious.

Alright, it was because of the obvious. It was because Elsa was in the room across the hall, fucking herself, and Emma wanted to be in there with her. It was because she was being the worst kind of girlfriend to Killian who had done nothing but been good to her lately. It was because she was having a rough time even _caring_ that she was being the worst kind of girlfriend to Killian because all she wanted was Elsa.

It was because her shock at having heard Elsa getting herself off was quickly waring off and fading into this warm pressure between her legs.

So.

The way Emma saw it, she had four options for what she could do right now, none of them particularly appealing, for various reasons-

One: she could try to go to sleep. That obviously wasn't going to happen, she was too riled up.

Two: she could call up Killian, drive out to meet him somewhere and have him fuck her desire for Elsa out of her. That also obviously wasn't going to happen, because Killian was the last person she wanted to see right now, and she was pretty sure _nothing_ could override her desire for Elsa right now. Nuclear _war_ could break out in the streets of Storybrooke and she was pretty sure all she'd be able to think about would be Elsa.

Three: She could completely _give in_ to her desire for Elsa, walk across the hall, burst into Elsa's room and fuck her. That didn't seem like a good idea though, not when she was pretty sure Elsa didn't think of her…like that. Also that might be kind of…rude. And the kind of thing that only happened in porn. So. Not that.

Four: she could lay awake here for the rest of the night driving herself crazy wondering what it was that Elsa was thinking about- _who_ it was she was thinking about- as she…did what she was doing.

All in all, the first option, going to sleep, had the lowest risk of negative consequences attached to it. But there was still the matter of _how_ the fuck she was supposed to convince herself to go to sleep, when she felt like this. Any other day she'd have gone down to the kitchen and poured herself a couple drinks to cure her insomnia. But today…not only was she all out of whiskey, having decided to hold off on buying any more Evan Williams for at least a week…but also, going downstairs would mean she'd have to walk past Elsa's door. Which meant she might hear her again. Or even if she didn't hear her, her imagination would run away with her and she'd feel like she was hearing her, and that was almost as bad.

Frowning, she leaned back against the pillows, trying to get comfortable. She wasn't going to go to sleep, she knew that. She could read, if only she was more of a reader. She could watch TV if only she liked TV. She could watch a movie if only she had the attention span for it.

She grabbed her phone off the edge of the nightstand and, for lack of anything better to do, changed her password a couple times. Then she downloaded a free chess game and tried that for a bit before remembering chess was _not_ her game, it took way more strategy than she'd ever had the capacity for.

She bet Elsa was good at chess. Strategy and all.

(She assumed they had chess in Arendelle- if they had fucking _I Never_, they probably had chess).

And yes, she realized she was thinking about Elsa again. But she was thinking about Elsa playing chess, so that seemed like relatively safe territory. And it was even related to what she was currently doing, so it wasn't so obsessive, really.

Maybe that was the trick. She just needed to train herself to think about Elsa more…appropriately. She could do that. She may not have the capacity for strategy but she wasn't stupid, maybe this was all just a matter of putting things back in the right perspective.

Elsa was her friend. And really, that in itself was nice, and new. Emma had never been a person of many friends, she wasn't good at making them, or keeping them. Whatever hit-and-miss thing she had going with Regina which fluctuated anywhere from a reluctant appreciation of each other's existence to the occasional desire to murder each other, was the best friendship Emma remembered having had. And now, what with the whole Marian thing, she'd fucked that up, and lost Regina.

So really, maybe what she _needed_ more than anything right now was a friend. _Just_ a friend. And Elsa…Elsa was a good friend.

Even back at the ice wall, that first day, Elsa was already this sort of loyal, pure-hearted person, trying everything she could do to keep Emma awake and alive, even though she didn't really know her at that point. Even though she was terrified and desperate to find her sister.

She'd knelt over Emma who was curled over on the ground on her side shivering, and she'd held her hand as tightly as she could, talking softly to her, forcing her to respond, stay alert. And she'd reached down, and brushed the hair out of Emma's face…

Emma frowned. No, she hadn't. She had brushed the hair out of Emma's face after the great Evan Williams fiasco. In her mind though, the two instances of Elsa bending over her, touching her, were starting to blend together.

She sank back against the pillows a little more as she thought about how maybe, if Elsa had touched her a little more like that in the ice cave, she wouldn't have nearly frozen to death.

In her mind, she altered the memory a little bit. So now, Elsa _was_ tracing her fingers over Emma's face as she knelt beside her, thumb brushing briefly over lips, parting them. In her mind, in this pretend memory she was making up, the ice cave wasn't so freezing after all, just cold enough to convince Elsa that touching her was absolutely necessary.

Emma sighed a little shakily, absently trailing her hand down her abdomen as she thought about how that could have gone. And she knew she shouldn't, she knew this was a mistake to think about, even for a second.

But she'd just do it this one time. Just this one time, get it out of her system, and then never again.

She closed her eyes.

And…_shit_.

In her mind, Elsa wasn't just bent _beside_ her now, she was kneeling astride her, straddling her hips, this soft but very sold weight above her, still tracing the lines of her face with the pads of her fingers.

Emma pressed her head back into the pillows, starting to tease her own fingers down beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms. And just like the Elsa in her imagination was tracing her fingers across her face, she started skimming her own fingers lightly up and down and in languid circles around her entrance.

In her mind, Elsa started rocking against her a little. So Emma in real life pressed her hand harder against herself. And then Elsa bit her lip in that way she did, grinding a little more insistently, so Emma pressed even harder making sure to bite back the moan that tried to escape.

The Elsa in her mind was starting to get this glazed-over look in her eyes, and she threw her head back and whimpered. Emma now had a cache of nine different whimpers she'd heard Elsa make, she replayed each one in her memory one by one.

In her imagination, she lifted her hands to Elsa's thighs, pushing the skirt of her dress up around her waist, shifting her hips to match Elsa's grind down. And she thought about how Elsa had said something about having once had a dress made of ice, so she let her imagination make this one be made of ice too, easily dissolved away with so that now Elsa was naked and glistening astride her.

_Fuck_.

Emma rubbed her hand harder against herself, slowly dipping a finger inside herself, surprised by how fucking easily it went in. She added another, stifling a moan as the Elsa in her mind started panting a little, reaching down to brace her hands on either side of Emma's head, sliding one over to cup her jaw, then tangling it in her hair, her face hovering a breath away from Emma's. She imagined sliding her hands around from Elsa's waist, down to cup her ass, squeezing hard and rocking her hips up even harder to get more friction.

Emma in real life groaned and rolled over on her stomach, grinding down hard into her own hand. _That_ was better, _that_ was the pressure she needed.

She found herself starting to breathe erratically as she pictured Elsa above her trailing her hand down to undo the button of her jeans, shoving her hand in to cup her sex.

_Shit_, she was really close. And good fucking thing because her hand was sort of starting to cramp up a little, but she was so fucking close that even _that_ felt kind of good, and the Elsa in her imagination now had her fingers slipping deep inside her and she was whimpering those nine whimpers one by one against her ear, and…

"Emma?"

Emma froze.

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought her head might explode. Had that been part of her fantasy, or was that real?

She breathed as slowly and as quietly as she could, trying to stop the rushing in her ears, entire body tense with the effort of listening.

Then a soft knock at her door.

"Emma, are you still awake?"

Shit.

_Shit._

Fuck.

Okay.

"Yeah, I'm-" _wow_, her voice was hoarse, "-hold on a second, Elsa, I'll be right there."

She rolled herself off the bed so fast her head spun, then looked wildly around her room till she caught her reflection in the vanity. And- shit, she couldn't answer the door looking like this, flushed and still breathy, red on one side of her face where her cheek had been pressed into the pillow.

At the very fucking least she needed a shirt to throw on over her tank top.

Running her hand through her hair she cast her gaze around for something. The closest thing to her was a black T-shirt- not perfect, but better than nothing, so she pulled it on over her head as quickly as she could, smoothing it down, smoothing her hair down, taking a deep breath.

If this wasn't a fucking sign that she shouldn't have done that, she didn't know what was.

But okay. Taking one more steadying exhale, she went to the door, opening it as calmly as she could, and crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped looked like a casual way, not an I'm-trying-to-hide-the-fact-that-I-was-just-getting-myself-off-thinking-about-you kind of way.

Elsa stood in the dim light of the hallway, back in Emma's old T-shirt and boxer shorts, hands clasped in front of her, braid loose. She looked up as Emma opened the door, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.

Emma cleared her throat. "Uhm, what's up?" she asked, missing smooth by just a little bit.

And Elsa just looked at her with this expression of deep concentration for a second before sucking in a breath and stating firmly, "I'm sorry."

Emma blinked at her. "What?"

"I'm sorry, I," Elsa huffed nervously, "feel like I've done something to make you upset and I…I don't like that you've barely spoken to me for days, and I know it's my fault, so I just…wanted to say I'm sorry. So you'll talk to me again."

Emma could have smacked herself in the face. Because here she was, lusting after this girl, bitching about Killian, and working herself up over unimportant _bullshit_ while Elsa just…needed someone to be there for her. She was alone, in a foreign place, and she was probably scared, and sad, and Emma had completely iced her out because she was too wrapped up in her own selfish shit to remember how to be an actual person.

"Elsa, no," she found herself saying quickly, "you have nothing to be sorry about, alright, I've just been- distracted, I- Listen, I'm the one who should be apologizing, okay, I've been an assho- I've been a real jerk to you lately. That wasn't your fault."

And Elsa's lips curved upward just the slightest bit in not quite a smile, but pretty much the most shyly hopeful expression Emma had ever seen and Emma sort of half-melted, half wanted to smack herself in the face again for having ever made the younger woman feel so…alone.

"So you're not mad at me?" Elsa asked carefully.

"No. I'm not. I was dealing with some…Killian stuff, but that's…"

"Oh, is everything alright?" Emma asked, brow immediately creasing with concern.

Elsa was concerned about the state of Emma's relationship with Killian. For fuck's sake…

"Honestly, I'd rather not talk about it," Emma told her. When the younger woman's face fell a little, she quickly added, "I'm totally happy to talk about anything else, though. Anything you want. Just not that."

Elsa nodded, looking down thoughtfully for a moment before casting her big eyes back up at Emma with a nervous bite of her lip.

"I thought of my third question," she said.

Emma tilted her head. "You what?"

"From our game a couple nights ago. We didn't finish it, I didn't ask my third question."

"Oh. Elsa, we don't need to…"

"Yes we do, we're talking again, we should finish what we started."

Her tone was teasing enough, but she also had kind of a haughty air to her, the one that made Emma want to smile, so she made a show of rolling her eyes and said "Fine. What's your third question."

"Before you asked _your_ third, before things got kind of…you know…" Elsa trailed off and Emma tried not to squirm at the memory. Elsa gathered herself. "Before you asked your third question, you looked at me and you started to say _I want_, but then you didn't finish it, and you said something else. So what I want to know is, what's the rest of it?"

"What's the rest of what?"

"What's the rest of what you were going to say? When you started to say _I want_, what were you going to say?"

Emma felt her mouth fall open a little in surprise and she blinked. How could Elsa even _remember_ that?

"I…have no idea, Elsa," she fumbled. "Honestly, I don't even remember having said _I want_, let alone what I was gonna follow that up with…"

"Emma, we're talking again, please don't start it off by lying to me." Elsa actually looked a little hurt.

"But that's…" Emma protested, feeling her face begin to flush. "That's not even a getting-to-know-you question, that's just-"

"It is absolutely a getting-to-know-you question," Elsa interrupted stubbornly. "You were going to say you want something, and I want to know what that is."

Emma stared at her. "Rules of the game said I don't have to answer if I don't want," she recalled petulantly, and she suddenly felt like she was negotiating playground rules as if she was eight years old again. It felt just as ridiculous, and just as serious.

Elsa frowned thoughtfully. "Fine. But if you forfeit, that means I'll be obligated to force-feed you an entire bottle of that Evan Williams stuff as punishment."

Emma paused, feeling vaguely ill just imagining it. "I…that was never part of what we agreed," she said. "Also, Elsa, that would probably kill me."

"Well that's what I do, is try to kill you," Elsa pointed out, "and the forfeit rule is a new one, I just made it up myself."

"…I don't think you can do that."

"I'm a queen, Emma, I can do whatever I want."

Emma cocked her head. There was still a playful glint to Elsa's eye, but she also didn't look like she was going to back down.

"I'm technically a princess, you know," she informed the younger woman. "You should show a little respect."

Elsa just shrugged, unimpressed. "Still lower than me," she said.

Emma wasn't sure if the sudden wave of heat on the back of her neck was annoyance or arousal. Both probably, and she was having a hard time quelling either one.

"Look, Elsa, let's just drop this, okay," she said with a sigh, "It was just a stupid game, we don't…"

"That's right, it was just a stupid game, so why won't you just answer?" Elsa interrupted, her own annoyance beginning to flare.

"Because it's not important-"

"Then why did you-"

"_Because_-" Emma snapped.

Just…fuck it.

"Because I was going to tell you I wanted to kiss you."

Elsa stared, looking nothing short of completely stunned. "…Oh," she said finally, voice very quiet.

"Yeah," Emma said, refusing to look at her. "So." She crossed her arms even tighter over herself in irritation. "And I know that's not…"

Elsa shook her head. "It's not," she echoed, seemingly in agreement though Emma wasn't really sure what they were agreeing about.

She dared herself to look Elsa in the eye and found the younger woman already looking at her, wide eyes even wider than before. She was mirroring Emma's stance, arms crossed over herself, though it seemed more from uncertainty than defensiveness and she was worrying at her lower lip like it's all she knew how to do.

"I re…" Elsa said finally. She pressed her lips together and said, voice barely audible, "I want you to."

Emma blinked.

Swallowed.

Blinked again.

"What?"

"But I can't, Emma, I can't be that," the younger woman went on, voice suddenly rushed, and her hands were suddenly on Emma's arms. "I can't be that, when I'm already…it's too much, Emma that's too much wrong with me."

Emma didn't know how her hands were suddenly cupping either side of Elsa's face, but they were and she was saying, more aggressively than she meant to, "There is _nothing_ wrong with you, Elsa, _nothing_."

And Elsa just looked kind of broken but she was leaning her face into Emma's hand and also nodding wide-eyed at her like that's all she wanted to hear, so Emma said it again, "_Nothing_, Elsa, you're fucking perfect, okay. You're so, so perfect."

And then it was just Elsa's mouth on hers.

Emma was too shocked to react at first, wasn't sure exactly what had just happened until she realized Elsa's arms were thrown around her neck, one hand tangling in her hair as the younger woman pressed her mouth to Emma's with a frantic sort of desperation, and none too gently either.

Almost more reflexively than anything else, Emma grabbed her by the hips, angling them both and pushing her up against the open door before pulling her head back to look at the younger woman in shock, keeping her pinned to the door by the waist.

"Elsa, what…?" she panted.

But Elsa was just looking back at her with this feverish sort of _need_, and she whimpered, "Emma, please…" fingers tightening in Emma's hair.

And like, okay, she had too many questions to even know where to begin, but…fuck, they probably weren't that important anyway. She pressed back in hard till she was completely flush against Elsa, pressing her mouth to hers again and gripping hard at her sides.

And Elsa was so _small_, like…yeah, she was a little _taller_ than Emma, but her frame was just tiny and Emma really liked the feel of her, liked being able to pin her so easily like that.

And she…okay, Elsa was…_unpracticed_, there was no getting around that. But it was like…it was kind of in a good way. They were both just slightly off rhythm with each other, and Elsa kept sort of pausing and re-angling herself, like she wasn't sure if she was supposed to be controlling the way this kiss was going, or just letting it happen, but she was trying really hard to get a feel for it anyway and that…that kind of made Emma smile a little bit.

It was the smile that made it better, actually. Elsa must have felt it against her lips, because she seemed to relax suddenly, and sighed, slowing her movements a little so Emma could take control. So Emma could swipe her tongue across her lips. So Emma could tease her tongue inside Elsa's mouth.

And Elsa kind of stilled for just a second when she did that, making this sharp little sound like she was surprised, but then she moaned really full-throatedly and opened her mouth to accommodate her, slipping her tongue in answer against Emma's.

And _that_ was just…like, a few short seconds of fumbling and then suddenly Elsa seemed to know _exactly_ what she was doing. She was unbelievably responsive, but she also seemed to be paying really close attention to everything Emma did, mirroring her, and then twisting things up just a little bit until Emma suddenly realized that _she_ was the one whining helplessly into _Elsa's_ mouth.

That wasn't going to work for her, she wanted Elsa to be the helpless one, so she dragged her lips away from Elsa's, nibbling along her jaw till she got just beneath her ear, and _that_ was the response she was looking for, Elsa letting out this completely unfettered moan, head rolling back as she slumped back against the door. Emma nudged her knee in between Elsa's legs, getting another moan out of her, this one sharper, this one causing Elsa to dig her fingernails into Emma's shoulder and buck her hips involuntarily against Emma's thigh.

"Emma…" Elsa whined uncertainly, so Emma moved her lips back over to Elsa's mouth to reassure her.

Elsa melted back into the kiss, probably finding it more familiar, easier to handle, and she sighed.

And then Emma heard a screech from down the hall.

She jerked her head away from Elsa, Elsa doing the same, and the two of them looked toward the direction of the sound.

"What was that?" Elsa whispered, breathless.

Not for the first time tonight, Emma tried to stifle her panting so she could actually _listen_, and then suddenly, the screech again.

And then this really long wail.

And then suddenly Emma knew exactly what that was, and she dropped her head into the crook of Elsa's neck, laughing.

"It's my brother," she explained, and as if on cue, the baby started crying in earnest.

Elsa leaned her head back against the door, laughing too now with relief. "Oh my god, I didn't know what that was," she giggled breathlessly, "that was terrifying."

"Yeah, he kind of turns into a creature when he's hungry," Emma agreed, enjoying the way Elsa's throat vibrated when she spoke and the way Elsa's chest heaved when she laughed. She lifted up, nuzzling at Elsa's neck with her nose, intending to start up again when she heard a sharp _click_ from down the hall as one of her parents got up to see to the baby.

She abruptly pushed herself away from Elsa as quickly as she could- the last thing either of them needed right now was to be found like this- but this weird sort of expression fell over Elsa's face as she did that and it was kind of like…Elsa looked like she'd just been slapped.

The two of them stared at each other in silence as they listened to David slip into the baby room down the hall, Emma on one side of the doorjamb, Elsa on the other. Emma had the distinct feeling she'd just done something wrong but she wasn't really sure what that was.

She tried to ask, but then she heard a creak as David seemed to be walking with baby Neal down the hall. She peeked out and he caught sight of her, smiling and coming over to say hello, jiggling the baby in his arms as he did.

"Hey," he whispered to them in greeting once he reached the doorway. Emma returned the greeting, giving the almost-back-to-sleep kid in his arms a smile.

"You guys okay?" David asked, looking between the two of them.

"Yeah, we were just…"

"…Talking about the Snow Queen," Elsa finished smoothly. Emma glanced at her.

David nodded, shifting baby Neal to the other shoulder. "I know she's been on all our minds," he said, "but we're doing everything we can to find her. And Anna," he added with a nod to Elsa who afforded him a small smile of appreciation.

"In the meantime, why don't you two get some sleep," he suggested, "we'll pick up again tomorrow, there's no need for you to be worrying about it all night."

The two of them nodded, like that was just a brilliant idea, and David caught Emma's arm.

"Hey," he said. "Listen, I'm sorry I gave you and Hook such a hard time earlier. I just…never got a chance to when you were growing up and now…" He sighed, leaning forward to kiss Emma on top of the head. "You looked gorgeous tonight, kiddo," he told her, left corner of his mouth coming up in a stern but genuine smile. "I'm really happy for you."

Emma could only nod speechless at him as he turned to put little Neal back to bed. Not until the door to his room shut closed behind him did Emma dare to look over at Elsa.

The younger woman had her gaze fixed to the floor.

"Uhm," Emma said.

"So I'm going to go to bed," Elsa announced, not waiting for her to get her thoughts together.

"Yeah, that's, I mean probably…"

"Emma?" Elsa interrupted quietly and Emma met her gaze, finding that sincere, too-trusting, too-kind look on the younger woman's face.

"I get it, okay?" Elsa said to her. "You don't have to worry about me." Then she offered a quick kind of sad twitch of a smile before turning and going back across the hall.

And that was great that Elsa _got it_, but Emma didn't. She wasn't totally sure _what_ the hell had just happened, or why she felt like she'd just almost gotten Elsa back, only to have her slip right through her fingers again.


	4. Regal Counseling (4x05 deleted scenes)

**A/N:** _So, the fluff is back in this one, with only some minor smut to hold you over to the next chapter. Sorry about that, but I had to do just a little character development here, just a little. As a consolation prize for the tameness of the smut however, may I offer you some insightfully snarky Regina, both as a plot device for me, and also because one of my lovely reviewers requested a little Reggie snark because it's just not Once Upon a Time unless Regina sasses somebody._

_Chapter starts out about mid-scene toward the end of the episode when Emma is trying to make amends with Regina in her crypt after a long, trying day of battling Snow Queens and ice monsters. I totally pilfered some of the dialogue from the actual scene, but it's just for transitional purposes to get to where I needed things to go. Transitional pilfering. It's totally legal. Just…shh, it's fine._

* * *

><p>So. She had cheated on Killian, that was a thing. She'd also somehow managed to make a mess of things between herself and Elsa, but she wasn't really sure how or exactly what she'd done, so that was another thing.<p>

On the upside, she'd managed to avoid being killed by the Snow Queen's loyal ice monster earlier in the evening, so that was…good.

It had been a rough day. Or more like a weird one. She had fully expected to wake up that morning to Elsa giving her the cold shoulder- instead the younger woman was surprisingly talkative as they got to the sheriff's station together, even friendly, if a little…careful.

That was puzzling. Even if things had gone _well_ the night before, Emma would have expected some awkwardness between them this morning. Instead, it was like nothing had even happened, so much so that Emma found herself wondering briefly if all that had just been some ridiculously vivid dream she'd had, not real at all.

But she could still taste Elsa on her mouth, could still smell her, still feel her…that wasn't a dream. Not even close.

And of course Elsa's reaction when Killian came by the sheriff's station that afternoon to drop off some more files, kissing Emma on the cheek before he went off to take Henry sailing...The young queen rather pointedly ignored him the entire time- he may as well have not even existed.

(Although the temperature in the room did drop at least a good twenty degrees when Killian kissed Emma on the cheek, Emma was just sure of it).

Once he was gone, however, Elsa seemed cheerful enough again, and oddly…attentive to every word Emma said. The young queen even went so far as to appear very adamant that she mend her differences with Regina for the rest of the day which, of all things for Elsa to be concerned with…seemed sort of…low priority. At least for Elsa. After all, Regina had nothing to do with Anna, or Arendelle, or the Snow Queen…nevertheless, Elsa seemed pretty fixated on fixing a friendship that honestly, Emma could never be totally sure even _was_ a friendship at all.

Still though, it was hard to disobey what had frankly sounded a bit like an order from Elsa to make up with Regina, and anyway, she supposed making up with her was the least she could do to thank Elsa for having saved them both from being magically air-strangled by the Snow Queen earlier.

Thus did she find herself back at Regina's crypt for the second time today, narrowly fending off some particularly nasty verbal jabs from the former Evil Queen.

"I wasn't _looking_ for you to assuage my _guilt_," Emma said finally to Regina, hoping it might put a stop to the onslaught of bitter snark headed her way. "I was just…looking for you to be my friend."

And Regina actually looked sort of…well, Emma wasn't really sure how to describe the look, but a little like…that was probably how Regina looked when she was about four years old and wanted someone to come play with her.

"…You thought we were friends?" the former Evil Queen of the Enchanted Forest asked, looking nothing short of a needy toddler.

Emma shrugged, feeling stupid. "Crazy, right? But…I thought it could be…that it was possible…" She couldn't see this going well, but she went on anyway. She'd already gone this far, may as well go all in. "I'm not going to stop trying," she told the queen. "Even if you still want to kill me."

She turned to leave then, because she wasn't sure what else she could possibly say, but then-

"Emma, wait…" Regina called to her.

And Emma was a little thrown off here, because it had been so long since Regina had called her by her first name, she had a brief moment of thinking that maybe Regina was talking to someone else. Not that there was anyone else in there.

So she turned, locking eyes with Regina who huffed and said with perfect Regina tact, "I don't _want_ to kill you."

Emma wasn't sure why that made her smile so much. Maybe after the day they'd had, after the past several days she'd had…this felt like the most unexpected victory she ever could have imagined.

"See?" she said. "That's a start."

Regina seemed to consider her for a moment before saying sharply, "We don't need to…hug…or anything ridiculous now, do we?"

Emma shook her head emphatically. "No! God, no, definitely not. No."

Regina nodded sharply. "Good."

"Yeah. Good."

Regina lifted an eyebrow at her. "Was there something else then?" she asked. "Or were you planning on setting up shop in my doorway?"

"No, I…" Emma felt herself flush uncomfortably. "I should probably head home."

"Wise decision. I'm sure your little sparkly blue dress friend will be wondering where you are."

"…Well actually, she's the reason I'm here," Emma said awkwardly. "She was really…invested…in making sure you and I were…getting along again. She told me I should come here, make amends and all that."

Regina looked at her a little blandly. "How thoughtful of her."

"Yeah."

She paused.

"She's actually…" Emma started. "I'm not actually sure what's going on with her. Like, why she thought it was so important that we, y'know. Be friends again."

"Life's full of mysteries."

"Yeah."

Regina waited.

"You appear to still be standing in my doorway," she observed after a moment.

"Oh right," Emma mumbled, starting to edge her way towards the exit of the crypt. "Sorry, I'll just…see you, Regina."

"Miss Swan," Regina called after her. "_Emma_."

She turned to see the former Evil Queen roll her eyes at herself, sighing resignedly before she drawled, "_Kill_ me before I ever engage in _girl-talk_ with you, but as your…friend…may I offer you some advice? About the little blonde stray you appear to have adopted?"

That seemed kind of like a low blow or something, but Emma was just desperate enough for advice at this point that she didn't really care.

"Please," she invited, annoyed that she already sounded prematurely grateful.

"Stop being an idiot," Regina suggested.

So. As far as advice went…

"Thanks Regina, that was really helpful."

"If you are unaware of the fact that you're being an idiot, or don't know how to stop doing so, then I'm afraid you are beyond help," Regina informed her.

"Alright," Emma said, rolling her eyes and turning back again to leave. She didn't know what she'd been expecting.

She paused though, angling her head back to look at Regina again, just because, like...

"You're not really…familiar with how this whole 'friend' thing works, are you," Emma guessed.

"And I'm supposed to believe you are?"

And okay, fair enough, but…

"I know you're supposed to be supportive," Emma said. "You know…_be there_…for each other."

Regina gestured sort of irritatedly between them. "I _am_ here," she pointed out, as if Emma was…well. An idiot.

"Not just physically," Emma told her.

"Miss Swan, believe me, if our relationship was just about being physical you'd know it by now."

That must have been an accidental statement, because when Emma looked at her in surprise, Regina actually looked a little startled herself. And it was hard to tell with Regina, honestly- the "physical" comment may have been a reference to her desire to smack Emma across the face at any given moment, or it may have been…something else.

"So…" Emma said, for lack of anything better coming to mind.

"So. _You're_ trying to have some steamy, illicit affair with a displaced monarch with questionable control over her powers," Regina spelled out for her, seamlessly returning them to the subject of Regina's…_advice_. She quirked a fairly judgmental eyebrow. "That doesn't strike you as ill-advised at all?" she asked.

Emma blinked a couple times.

"…How did you…?"

"Well you certainly _talked_ long enough about her while we were trying to track down the Snow Queen, didn't you, it's not like it was a particularly difficult conclusion to reach." She made a face at Emma's shocked silence. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you think you were being discrete about it?"

"Well, I…"

"_Two and a half hours_ we were traipsing around the woods this evening, Miss Swan, would you like to know how long you talked about Elsa for? _Two hours and three minutes_. The other twenty-seven were split between us trying to kill that ice monster thing and avoiding being strangled by the Snow Queen."

"…I don't think I talked _that_ long-"

"Entirely against my will, I now know Elsa's _entire_ history growing up in Arendelle, her habits, her favorite foods, the fact that she holds her liquor a hell of a lot better than you do, every word from this world that she still gets wrong that you find _enchanting_…shall I go on? You're obsessed with her."

"I am not _obsessed_ with anyone," Emma snapped indignantly.

Regina lifted an eyebrow. "I cursed an entire realm of people to another world in order to get even with a ten-year-old, dear, believe me I know obsessive behavior when I see it," she said.

"…I…" Emma broke off, defeated. She sighed. "I kissed her last night," she confessed.

Regina rolled her eyes. "Didn't I distinctly say I had no interest in girl-talk?" she mumbled.

"_You're_ the one who started offering me advice."

"Yes, and now I've offered it, I don't see that there's anything further we need to discuss. You can feel free to leave at any time."

"Regina please? I'm…" she sighed. "I'm at a loss here and I don't know who else to talk to."

Regina gave her a look that implied she would rather be just about anywhere but here right now, but then she made an irritated gesture, rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that day and said, "Speak."

Not the warmest of invitations, but Emma was going to roll with it.

"I kissed Elsa last night," she started again. "Or- well actually she kissed me, I guess, she…"

"Spare me the gory details, Miss Swan, please? I'm not _that_ interested in your sex life."

"Can you…? I'm getting to it, just bear with me. So she kissed me, but it was sort of weird how it happened- first she didn't want to, she kept saying it was too much _wrong_ with her, but when I told her there was nothing wrong with her she kind of…"

Regina raised a warning eyebrow. Right, details.

"…Right, so then everything was going fine," Emma rushed on, afraid that at any moment Regina would get bored or fed-up and simply magic herself away mid-sentence, "But then my father showed up so I pushed away from Elsa so he wouldn't see us…and then after he left, she just looked like…I don't know like I'd hurt her or something."

"You use too much teeth?" Regina asked knowingly.

"Regina…please can you not be a smart-ass for like, two seconds?" Emma requested.

When Regina gave a slight eyeroll that Emma was going to choose to interpret as a nod, she went on.

"So all today I thought she'd either be mad at me, or want to talk about it, you know, either the kiss or whatever happened," she said, "but anytime I tried to bring it up Elsa kept finding ways to completely side-step and change the subject. And then once I showed her the pictures you had Sidney take of me a couple years ago, you know the ones I showed you earlier, and I told her about our…you know, you and me, how we…how it's kind of…"

"How you brought my true love's wife forward in time and prevented me from ever finding my happy ending?" Regina filled in smoothly.

Emma huffed. "Yeah. That. Once I told her about that, she just…it's like all she could talk about today was how important it was that I find some way to make amends with you. It's like…she's been talking to me all day, she's been friendly with me all day, but it was so…_distant_, it's like she's not…there...anymore."

Regina looked at her for a time, looking fairly unimpressed.

"Am I supposed to glean from this rambling narrative of yours that you're confused by Elsa's behavior?" she asked finally.

"_Yes_," Emma exclaimed, irritated. "That is exactly what you're supposed to _glean_." She needed new friends.

"Miss Swan, do you listen to yourself when you speak?" Regina asked. "I'm only asking because you've already provided me with all the answers _you're_ looking for."

Emma decided not to fall for the bait, and just waited for Regina to explain.

"Elsa is the reigning monarch of a large realm," Regina said finally, with an impatient sigh. "She also has magic and, as I learned from you in your ramblings earlier this evening, is the only person with magic in her entire kingdom, something which she was ostracized for by her own family. On top of that, it would appear that she is also attracted to women- specifically, and God knows why, to _you_. Now, you don't think the combination of those things seems like a lot of _different_, or a lot of _wrong_, especially considering the unforgiving manner in which her parents raised her?"

"I…" Emma didn't know what to say.

"She's _afraid of herself_, Emma, in more regards than one. Afraid of her powers, afraid of her responsibility to her kingdom, afraid of her own sexuality. _Somehow_ I get the feeling that fucking her up against a wall, or whatever messy thing you did to her, and then pushing her away and refusing to acknowledge her in front of your father, and continuing to run around with that ridiculous preening _pirate_ is not the way to go about fixing that."

"We didn't…"

But Regina wasn't finished. "A young woman," she said sharply, "who has never had sex in her life, has never been in a relationship with anyone, who has lived the majority of her life without human contact of any kind, and you expect her to have the emotional maturity to handle being _the other woman_ for you so that everything in _your_ life remains comfortable? Good grief, Miss Swan, what kind of Savior are you?"

Well. The stupid kind, apparently.

"But…" she found herself protesting, "but what does that have to do with you? Why was she trying to get me to make up with you, trying to make sure everything was okay between me and Killian?"

"Because she _adores_ you, Miss Swan, anyone with half a brain cell can see that," Regina snapped. "She's doing what any idiot with a crush _would_ do…she's trying to fix your life for you, mend all your relationships for you, make you the happiest person in the whole world, even if that happiness comes at the expense of her own." Regina sighed, something dark and kind of sad crossing over her and she glanced down at the spread of books on the table beside her. "I should know."

…So.

Oh.

That made…a surprising amount of sense. And definitely didn't make Emma feel all that good about herself.

"So what do I do?" she asked quietly.

"I take it that my earlier recommendation of 'stop being an idiot' was unhelpful to you?"

"Yes, Regina. It was unhelpful. What should I _actually_ do?"

Regina looked at her long and hard then said in the most compassionate voice Emma ever remembered having heard from her, "Hell if I know."

* * *

><p>That seemed like plenty of emotional processing for one day, Emma thought.<p>

She was wrong though, apparently, when she went back to the sheriff's station to go through some of her old things, wound up gathered up in Killian's arms, and discovering through a video on an old camcorder of hers that the Snow Queen had actually been her foster mother at one point when she was 15.

So. This day sucked.

She went home without a word to Killian after that little bombshell. He offered to walk her home, was concerned she wasn't in a good headspace. She didn't feel like arguing, so she just didn't say anything at all and walked out the door without him.

Which he didn't deserve. But it was a little hard for her to care at the moment.

This day didn't appear to have an off switch. And emotional exhaustion aside, she was also just fucking physically worn out having just spent hours in the woods, and battling a demonic ice…gladiator. Thing.

A demonic ice gladiator thing that had been summoned up by her former foster mother, apparently.

Her former foster mother who she still couldn't remember anything about.

Jesus fucking Christ. Emma rubbed at her face with her hands as she got back home, dragging her feet up the stairs to her room. She wanted to take a shower, get this fucking day off of her.

She put that off too though when, glancing at the once-again open door to Elsa's room, she saw the younger woman curled up in the fetal position on her bed, head tilted toward the window, staring out of it.

And obviously the smart thing to do here would be to ignore that, but Emma sort of didn't want to be alone right now, and it kind of looked like maybe Elsa needed someone too. She wasn't going to do anything, not after everything Regina had just said to her, but she just wanted to be close to Elsa, and she was kind of too tired to fight herself right now.

So she knocked on the doorjamb softly, and Elsa turned her head slowly like she was in the middle of a thought. Emma must have looked more tired than she thought though because Elsa's brow immediately creased in concern and she straightened a little from her curled-up position.

"Emma, are you alright?" she asked.

And that just didn't seem right that after everything Emma had put her through, Elsa was still _worried_ about her. About _her_.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Elsa," she lied, not wanting to go into it right now. "Just really tired. What are you still doing up?"

"I was just thinking."

"Yeah? Anything interesting?"

And Elsa looked sort of wary, like maybe she didn't really want to talk about it, but then she straightened against the pillows, gathering her knees against her chest and said, "I was thinking about the Snow Queen."

What a coincidence, so was Emma.

But Emma was determined not to bring up her own shit right now, especially not when Elsa looked all vulnerable and kind of confused like that.

So she nodded. "I'm sorry she tricked you into thinking your sister was here earlier," she said. "That couldn't have been easy for you."

"It's not really that," Elsa told her. "I think I knew it wasn't _really_ Anna, I just wanted it to be so badly that I followed her. It was more what happened afterwards, I just…" she broke off, shrugging one shoulder up weakly. "I don't know."

Emma stepped forward, almost without thinking. "Elsa, did she hurt you?" The words were out of her mouth before she'd even realized she'd thought them.

But Elsa shook her head emphatically. "No, she didn't, she…I actually think she was trying to…_comfort_ me. In a way. I mean, she had me in handcuffs, but-"

"She _what_?" Emma demanded, something very angry and very protective flaring up in her.

But Elsa just shook her head again and offered a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "We don't really need to talk about it, Emma, it was just on my mind," she said.

Her tone was still sweet enough, but it also seemed kind of final, like that was really all she was willing to share, so Emma sighed, and nodded.

"Then do you mind if I say something?" she asked the younger woman.

Elsa seemed maybe kind of surprised that she was asking permission to talk, but she gave this really slight head-nod and gestured toward the edge of the bed in invitation.

And Emma wasn't actually planning on sitting down, that seemed like a bad idea, but her legs were tired, and it was _Elsa_, so sit down she did.

So. Cards on the table time.

"I liked kissing you last night," she said bluntly, if kind of lamely.

Elsa looked surprised, like that was the last thing she expected Emma to say to her, and she made this startled involuntary "oh?" sound and then just stared at her.

"I really, really did," Emma went on, "but I also think…I _know_…that I shouldn't have."

And just like that, Elsa regained some of her composure, nodding. "I told you, Emma, I understand," she said softly. "What I did was unacceptable, I'm sorry I-"

"No, Elsa, listen to me it was acceptable, okay, it was…_way_ more than acceptable, it…" She broke off. How should she put this? "If I could do only one thing for the entire rest of my life, kissing you would be right up there at the top of the list. I just…I forgot to think about _you_, like what this all means for _you_. And I went about it all wrong. I shouldn't have pushed away from you like that. But it wasn't because I was ashamed of you, okay? Or afraid, or anything like that. It was just bad timing."

She chanced it and reached her hand over, taking Elsa's in hers. Cold, as always, but not freezing, which Emma hoped was a good sign.

"There's nothing wrong with what we did," she said. Then she made a face because that actually wasn't quite true.

"Okay, let me re-phrase," she tried again. "There's nothing wrong with what _you_ did. _I_…kind of did something wrong, because I cheated on Killian, and I'm going to have to…deal with that…at some point…but what _we_ did, that wasn't wrong, Elsa. And I'm not ashamed of it. But I shouldn't have done it when I did, or how I did, but I'm still kind of glad I did it anyway, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat, all the time, but only if you want to."

She released the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and kind of felt like she should be given a standing ovation at this point because that was a lot of words and, alright, it wasn't anywhere near the realm of _eloquent_, but she was pretty sure she'd gotten her point across because amidst the concern etched into Elsa's brow, there was this little spark of hopefulness in her expression. And then the younger woman's thumb slid up to brush over Emma's knuckles and it was kind of subtle, like Emma wasn't sure Elsa even realized she did it.

"Is it…okay, in this world? To…be like that?" Elsa asked after a moment of silence between them.

Emma tilted her head. "You mean what w...like, girls being into other girls?" she asked. _Very_ eloquent, Swan.

Elsa glanced away uncomfortably, but nodded.

Emma thought about that. "I mean it's…it kind of depends, I guess, on where you are, and who you're with…" She paused, frowning. "Actually, no, you know what, it _is_ okay, it's okay anywhere, there's nothing wrong with it, it's just that some people are idiots."

Elsa didn't look particularly convinced. Emma realized she needed someone who was better with words to explain this.

"Does anyone in Arendelle know? About you? I mean about, you know…?"

Elsa bit her lip. "Anna knows," she said. "And Kristoff. No one else. That would be too much for them, for my people, to handle, on top of the whole magic thing. It means I can't produce an heir for them, it means I'm…"

"What do Anna and Kristoff think about it?" Emma interrupted quietly, trying to steer the younger woman away from what looked like a pretty detrimental train of thought.

"Kristoff…doesn't really mention it ever," Elsa said thoughtfully. "I think he just prefers not to acknowledge it, just lets it…be. I suppose."

"And Anna?"

For the first time all evening Elsa's face actually broke into a wide, warm smile, and she laughed softly. "Anna points at every woman we pass on the street and asks me if I think they're attractive," she said, rolling her eyes and grinning. "And she tries to get me to flirt with all the serving girls, and every noblewoman who comes to visit, and every merchant woman we encounter anytime we go the market…essentially everyone with breasts."

Emma surprised herself by realizing she was smiling too.

"Obviously I never do it," Elsa added, "but…she tries."

"Your sister sounds like a good person," Emma said.

"She's an evil imp. But. Yes. She is."

"She wants you to be happy."

"Yes."

"And are you?"

Elsa's brow creased a little and she bit down on her lip, eyes locking with Emma's.

"I'm…" she said, and then leaned forward hesitantly. She paused, seeming to gather her courage, then tilted her head and pressed her lips softly to Emma's.

She stayed like that for a long moment, completely motionless, just pressing her mouth to Emma's, before finally pulling back just slightly, flickering her eyes up to look at her. Then she pressed back in again, this time parting her lips just a little, moving, kissing her slowly, but in earnest.

And Emma let her take control of the kiss. It seemed important, letting Elsa slide their lips together the way she wanted, incredibly slow, but with an intensity Emma couldn't remember having felt in a long time. And it felt _so good_ when Elsa finally flicked her tongue out, licking slowly at the seam of Emma's lips to get her to open up, that Emma actually moaned embarrassingly loudly into her mouth.

She wanted nothing more than to push Elsa back onto the bed and kiss her breathless, but she was determined to let Elsa call the shots on this one, let her take as much or as little as she wanted, as fast or as slow as she wanted. So she gripped hard at her own leg with the hand that wasn't holding onto Elsa's in order to anchor herself.

She maybe needn't have bothered, as Elsa began to kiss her a little harder, breaking away for a moment to catch her breath, and then pressing back in with renewed intensity, wandering her hands up to slip the leather jacket off Emma's shoulders.

And…okay, actually how far was Elsa planning on taking this?

Emma gave a half-hearted moan of protest, but Elsa's fingers had found the neckline of Emma's shirt and she was using it to pull her down slowly against herself on the bed and suddenly Emma realized she was completely on top of the younger woman, nearly every inch of them touching.

It was a sobering enough realization that she actually broke away from the kiss, pulling back an inch or so to look down at Elsa, panting.

The woman beneath her stared back, breath heavy and eyes dark, but she made no move to pull Emma back in again. Instead, she let go of the hold she had on her shirt and just lifted a hand to trace lightly at Emma's jaw.

And Emma stayed hovering above her for a long time just looking at her, just breathing her in, just letting her trace the lines of her face before she finally breathed out, "So."

Elsa's lips curved upward and she said, "So" back, voice breathy, but kind of…content, rather than lust-filled.

"I should probably let you get some sleep," Emma ventured questioningly.

Elsa bit her lip. "Emma?" she asked. She looked away shyly, before bringing her gaze back up to meet Emma's. "Do you think you could stay with me? I mean, not the whole night or anything, just until I fall asleep?"

And Emma didn't _cuddle_, right, it just wasn't really her thing. But right now, it sounded like just about the best thing she could think of and she found herself smiling as she sank down into the bed, shifting so her weight wasn't resting completely on Elsa, but still draping one leg over Elsa's thighs and one arm over Elsa's waist, and nuzzling into the side of Elsa's neck.

Elsa giggled, sounding kind of surprised. "Comfortable?" she asked.

Emma just nodded into her neck, humming contentedly.

Elsa exhaled deeply, breath just a little shaky, and she brought her hand up to rest over the arm Emma had on her waist.

"Goodnight, Emma," she heard Elsa murmur, and then Emma was out like a light.


	5. Pitbull (4x06 deleted scenes)

**A/N:** _Takes place before, during, and after the episode. It's all over the place, essentially._

* * *

><p>Elsa was a terrible sleeper.<p>

Not at first- for the first couple hours, sleeping curled up against Elsa was the most comfortable Emma remembered having been in a long time. Starting round about 2 in the morning however, the younger woman started fidgeting in her sleep, twitching her arm back against Emma hard enough that Emma woke up with a start.

That wasn't so bad, it was a welcome reminder that she was sprawled half on top of the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen, which, as far as ways to wake up went, was definitely a favorite. It also gave her an excuse, as Elsa continued to flinch a little in her sleep, to pull her in closer and mumble sleepily into her ear and kiss the side of her neck to calm her down.

Which worked. And Emma was able to go back to sleep.

Not more than a half hour later, however, she was woken again when Elsa slammed her elbow into Emma's ribs.

That wasn't so comfy.

Emma doubled over with a surprised grunt and bit down on her lip in pain as Elsa murmured unintelligibly in her sleep and rolled over on her side.

Fucking _ow_.

Still, she reasoned it was unlikely that would happen again, so she edged back in, spooning up against Elsa's back and reaching over her waist to close her hand over Elsa's wrists. Just in case.

That went nicely till about 5 in the morning when Emma woke up to the sound of her own teeth chattering, and a minor blizzard swirling above her head.

Which, okay, that was new, and also-

_Cold_. Mother of Christ, fuck, it was really fucking cold.

"_Elsa_," she hissed, through her chattering teeth. She shook the younger woman's shoulder as gently as she could through her shivering, hugging her other arm to herself to try to warm up. "_Els_. Elsa, w-wake up."

Elsa stirred awake, drowsily murmuring something that sounded like, "_Mmm_...ingerwa…?" that at any other time would have been absolutely precious, except that right now, Emma was pretty sure she was freezing to death. Again.

"B-blizzard," Emma stammered, pointing up to the ceiling as Elsa turned her head to look at her sleepily.

Elsa seemed to consider that blearily for a moment, before her eyes widened and she shot straight up, waving her hand in a twisting motion to make the miniature storm vanish.

"Emma!" she breathed once it was gone, immediately bending over her and taking her face in her hands. Which was a really nice gesture and everything, but Elsa's hands may as well have been fucking ice cubes, so they weren't really helping the situation.

"Sh-shower," Emma chattered out. "G-gonna go t-take a ssss-shower."

Elsa nodded quickly, looking panicked. "Do you need help getting there?" she asked.

"N-nope," Emma stammered, rising shivering to her elbows and then clamping her arms around herself as she slid shakily out of bed. "J-just n-n-n-n-need to get w-warm."

She staggered stiffly out of the room, wishing she could say something comforting to poor Elsa who was probably beside herself with worry, but she was kind of too cold to think of any other words besides "shower" right now, so she didn't.

She made it to the bathroom, twisting the shower faucet up as hot as it could possibly go, then she plugged the drain so the tub would fill with hot water too. Not exactly hygienic, she knew that, but she didn't really give a fuck. She wanted to be _drenched_ in heat right now, she wanted to be completely covered in it.

She shakily made it out of her clothes and climbed into the tub, sitting down and gathering her knees to her chest, ducking her head under the fall of hot water from the shower head. Again, not so good on the hygiene side of things, but, fucking…magic, that's what that felt like. Jesus. She eased back after a moment, relaxing slowly as hot water enveloped her from every direction.

So, okay, there were some hazards to cuddling all night with an ice queen. That was fine. Just. She'd have to bring a heating pad or something next time. Or like, maybe a flamethrower.

She sighed, feeling her muscles begin to relax into the heat, and closed her eyes.

And fuck it, in spite of everything, she realized she was smiling right now. Like, grinning, ear to ear. Because this was kind of hilarious, and also because she'd just spent the last five hours wrapped around _Elsa_ and that was…fucking incredible. They hadn't even done anything, and she was still just grinning like an idiot. Because _Elsa_.

Eventually she convinced herself to leave the warmth of the shower, wrapping a towel around her chest and making her way back to her room. She closed the door behind her, turned, and was presently met with Elsa, perched on the edge of her bed, holding a steaming mug of hot cocoa out to her.

"I-" Elsa began and then croaked to an abrupt halt as she took in Emma's towel-clad self. And then she just stared. And stared. It was actually a bit like maybe Elsa's brain had ceased to function, her mouth hanging open slightly, and wide eyes following a bead of water that dropped from Emma's still-wet hair and trickled down between her breasts.

And Emma tried really hard not to smirk, but this was kind of like the most satisfying thing in the world, seeing Elsa just stare awe-struck at her, cheeks flushed bright, bright red.

"Elsa?" she prompted, when the younger woman continued to gape.

And Elsa actually _jumped_ in surprise, eyes snapping up to Emma's, apparently having forgotten where she was, and there was a loud _crack_ as the mug in Elsa's hands froze solid and then split in half, the hot cocoa, now a frozen block of ice, falling to the floor and shattering into several pieces.

So…if that wasn't Emma's new favorite thing that had ever happened, she wasn't sure what was.

"Oh my god," Elsa whispered in shock, staring down at the two broken halves of the mug in her hands.

And Emma wanted to laugh, because she had _never_ seen Elsa this flustered before, but the younger woman was already on her feet, having dropped the two halves of the mug onto the bed, face beet red as she stammered, "Emma, I am so…I should go…get a…get one of those…things…" and tried to edge around Emma to get to the door, presumably in search of a vacuum.

Emma grabbed her wrist as she tried to get by though, spinning her around and backing her up until the younger woman's back collided with the wall behind her and she squeaked in surprise. Emma stepped into her, getting as close as she possibly could without actually touching her, bracing her hands on the wall on either side of Elsa's head.

Elsa exhaled shakily, chest fucking _heaving_ as she breathed, waiting for Emma to say something. She was so flustered she didn't seem to know _what_ to do with herself except to press herself further up against the wall, eyes ping-ponging back and forth between Emma's. And Emma knew it was kind of mean to make her that uncomfortable, but there was something _so fucking satisfying_ about nervous Elsa that she couldn't help herself.

She leaned her head in slowly toward the younger woman's neck and Elsa actually squeezed her eyes shut, like she was waiting for Emma to rip out her jugular with her teeth or something. And that was too fucking precious, _Elsa_ was too fucking precious, so Emma dipped her head down and skimmed her lips feather light up the side of her throat, and Elsa _shivered_.

Once she reached her ear, Emma pressed her mouth against it and murmured lowly, "So, I don't think you're allowed to bring me hot cocoa anymore."

Elsa breathed out a relieved laugh, the tension between them breaking, and Emma pulled her head back a little to smile at her.

"…No, it's…never really gone the way I want it to," the younger woman agreed.

Emma slid her hands down to Elsa's waist, sneaking her thumbs under the hemline of the T-shirt to feel just a little bit of her skin. Just a _little_. Elsa's stomach muscles jumped just from that slight contact and the younger woman's confidence seemed to dip again.

"So right now," Emma teased, "things aren't going the way you want them to?"

"Uhm," Elsa said uncertainly.

And Emma had no idea why it was that the more unsure of herself Elsa got, the more Emma wanted to pin her down and just fucking _take_ her, but it was taking a lot for her right now to control herself. Try as she might, she couldn't _quite_ stop her hands from roaming just a bit- she was making sure to stay firmly within the hip/waist region, no higher, no lower, but she just _really_ wanted to feel more of Elsa right now.

And part of it, she thought, maybe just had to do with how Elsa had _looked_ at her when she'd first noticed Emma was wrapped in nothing but a towel that was verging on too small to do a proper job of covering her up anyway. That hadn't been sweetly affectionate Elsa looking at her, that had been Elsa stunned into silence because of how much of Emma she was seeing. That had been nothing but pure physical attraction to her, like she wasn't even looking at Emma as a _person_, she was just looking at her as a _body_, and something about that idea was insanely hot for some reason.

So she pressed in hard against her and kissed her, this time at _her_ pace, not really feeling like waiting for Elsa to ease into feeling more comfortable. That seemed to be just fine, though, because after a brief moment of surprise, Elsa started kissing her back just as hard, slipping her arms up around Emma's neck and making these helpless little noises into her mouth, which…Emma could definitely get used to that.

Distantly she thought, one of them was going to need to put a stop to this soon before it escalated too much more, but she was kind of too preoccupied with brushing her thumbs over Elsa's ribs, and Elsa was kind of too preoccupied melting into her mouth, so…

Actually Emma did stop, and quite suddenly. Elsa looked at her in surprise.

"What…?"

"My towel," Emma explained, "just kind of…came undone."

And it had. In fact, the only reason why it was still on her at all was because Elsa seemed to have decided she needed to be pressed up against her as close as was humanly possible, so one edge of the towel was trapped between their two bodies.

The rest of the towel had slipped off and around, leaving Emma's entire backside revealed.

(Not that it was in any way a_ bad_ backside, but…)

"Oh," Elsa stammered. She blushed, but she was also starting to grin in that kind of lopsided way that Emma liked so much. And if things were not like this, if Emma wasn't so afraid of pushing Elsa too far, if she wasn't still concerned about Killian, if they weren't in Emma's parents' house, if they weren't in the midst of trying to solve the mystery of Emma's former-foster-mother-Snow-Queen, Emma would have let that fucking towel drop and proceeded to do terrible things to Elsa for the entire rest of the morning.

But realistically, she knew Elsa wasn't ready for that. And she _had_ to figure out what she was going to do about Killian before she did anything else, because Regina was right. None of this was fair to him, or to Elsa.

So she leaned in for one more quick kiss, reaching her arm around herself to grab the stray end of the towel and pulling it back around her, tucking it back securely into place.

"I should get dressed," she said, and Elsa looked a little disappointed, so she leaned back in for another kiss and added teasingly, "but uhm, you can feel free to go downstairs and make me another cup of hot cocoa if you want."

Elsa tilted her head at her, actually looking kind of indignant. "I wasn't aware that was my job now," she said.

Emma laughed, and leaned in again. "Mmm, maybe I feel like you kind of owe me," she said. "You know," she nipped Elsa's ear, "after the whole snow-storm-above-my-head incident. Also," she pinched lightly at Elsa's hip, making her squeak, "for elbowing me in the ribs last night."

Elsa's eyes grew round. "I elbowed you in the ribs?" she asked.

Emma smiled. "I'd show you the bruise but it's under my towel, and if your reaction to me _without_ a towel is anything like your reaction to me _with_ a towel, you'll probably just end up breaking another one of my favorite mugs."

"Oh god, Emma, was that your favorite mug? I'm-"

Emma cut her off with a kiss because she needed to stop being so sweet, and then forced herself to step away from the younger woman.

"I'll meet you downstairs in twenty, okay?" she said. " And then we should head over to the sheriff's station because I actually," she frowned, remembering the video revealing the Snow Queen as her foster mother. "I actually have something to show you."

* * *

><p>Elsa took in the video with all the poise of the ice queen that she was.<p>

That is, she did have a brief moment of panic when she failed to understand _what_ precisely a video was, and became concerned that she too might be sucked into the tiny box to live out the rest of her days as "a three-inch tall being whose face occasionally becomes disturbingly enlarged."

Once Emma explained it to her however, she fell back into that neutral ice queen mask that always made Emma just a little uneasy, and watched the video without so much as a raised eyebrow to indicate what she thought about it.

It was moments like these when Emma was sharply reminded that Elsa wasn't just _Elsa_- she wasn't just some sweet, innocent young woman who had wandered haplessly into Emma's life, she was a queen, and an extremely powerful one at that. She'd been wrong before- the ice queen mask wasn't just a persona, it was a part of her, a real part of her, the part that allowed her to survive, and to rule over an entire kingdom. Yes, Elsa was beautiful, yes Elsa was kind-hearted, but there was danger lurking inside her, and…power. A lot of power.

And for some reason, seeing the video of the Snow Queen was bringing that side of her out.

"You should show this to the others," Elsa said at last, breaking into Emma's thoughts. "David, Mr. Gold, Regina…Hook." She shifted her gaze up to Emma. "We can't put this off any longer, we need to find out now what the Snow Queen is up to. If we can organize a search party, maybe we can…"

But Emma sort of wasn't listening to her. That cold, clipped tone she was using usually only ever happened when Elsa was upset enough that she felt she had to be guarded about every single word she said, and it made that…whatever that protective thing was in Emma, it made that flare up again.

So she crouched down beside the chair Elsa was sitting in and slid her hand over Elsa's.

"Elsa," she said, and Elsa looked down at her. "We're going to find her, okay? I promise."

Elsa shifted in her seat to face Emma, looking like she was fighting to keep the ice queen mask in place. "It's just strange seeing her, Emma," she said. "I feel like I see her all the time, I dream about her, and I don't…I just don't even know what to think. About her."

Emma nodded. "We'll do it, we'll do what you said, we'll organize a search party, find her. Whatever it takes. Okay?"

Elsa gazed at her silently for a moment, not responding. Then she blinked, face softening. "How old were you?" she asked at last.

"How old was I?"

"In the video. How old were you?"

"Fif…thirteen," Emma corrected herself. "I thought I was older when I watched it last night but when I looked at the date just now…I don't know, I looked so angry there, I guess it made me look a little older than I actually was."

"You didn't look angry," Elsa countered gently, "you just looked…wronged." She paused, lifting her hand up to cup Emma's cheek. "You look like that now," she said.

"What, wronged?"

Elsa nodded, thumb stroking at Emma's cheekbone. "Wronged, and young, and…kind of lost," she said. "So you're not allowed to try to comfort me anymore. This time, I'm going to comfort you."

Emma felt herself sigh involuntarily, feeling this strange warmth flood through her bones. She hadn't even been aware that she'd been tense, but she felt this kind of startling sense of relief at Elsa's words, like she'd forgotten this whole thing was as much about her as it was about Elsa.

"You're going to comfort me how?" she asked quietly.

Elsa turned to face her fully, bring her other hand up to cup the other side of Emma's cheek as well. "I'm going to tell you that everything's going to be alright," she said firmly. "And then I'm probably going to kiss you. And then I'm going to help you get everyone down here to form a search party. And then I'm going to hold your hand while you show them the video. And then when no one's looking I'm probably going to kiss you again, because I don't want you to ever feel as wronged as you looked when you were 13. Okay?"

And that was kind of too much, because suddenly Emma felt like her ribs were going to burst from how much warmth was flowing through her, and how much she couldn't figure out whether that made her want to cry a little bit or made her want to just soar straight up into the air.

She did neither, ultimately, because she didn't know how to fly, and she wasn't about to cry in front of anyone, but she turned her head to press a kiss to Elsa's palm. "Thank you," she said, and that didn't even come close to expressing how wonderful Elsa made her feel, but she wasn't sure what else to say.

Elsa just leaned down and kissed her and said, "Everything's going to be alright."

* * *

><p>So Emma was going to go ahead and say she was getting a little tired of the woods.<p>

After hours of trudging through them in the cold, and finally stumbling upon the Snow Queen's ice cream truck only to unearth an extensive file she had apparently been keeping on her, Emma was ready to be _home_ and she was ready to be _warm_. And once she had those things, she was ready to curl up and wallow in confusion, at least for a couple minutes before she'd have to get back up again and continue the search.

More than anything, she realized, she was upset because of that odd little tendril of fondness that sneaked through her when she had been looking through the file with Killian and found it full of some of her old artwork, stories, and even just scraps of plain old homework, all organized and arranged and kept carefully intact for what, upwards of 17 years now. She didn't know where that feeling of fondness had come from, and she didn't like it, so she was going to take her frustration out on the fact that she and the rest of the search party still had a good hour's hike ahead of them before they'd get back to Storybrooke.

Killian nudged her arm playfully with his elbow as he walked beside her, breaking into a particularly unkind thought she was having about a tree they'd just passed, and offered her a grin.

"Alright, love?" he asked. "You look like you just found out Granny's was going out of business."

Emma smiled in spite of herself, huffing out a small laugh. "Don't even joke about that," she said.

Killian winked. "I'll joke about it all I want, Swan, long as it gets a smile out of you."

So Emma sent him her best glare, which he responded to by nudging her with his elbow again, and then again, and then one more time until Emma finally caved and nudged him back, hard, allowing herself to laugh a little when he clutched at his heart and pretended to be knocked off balance.

"There," he said, once he'd righted himself. "That's the sound I never hear anymore."

"What sound?"

"I believe they call it laughter, love, but it _has_ been awhile."

"You're a riot," Emma drawled, rolling her eyes.

"I have incited a few, it's true," he quipped proudly.

And it was weird, this. How easy it was to talk to him. How easy it was for him to draw a smile out of her, even when she wasn't really feeling it. And the easiness of it made her uncomfortable, it shouldn't be this way.

Looking at it now, she thought maybe it was the easiness that had drawn her to him in the first place. She cared about him, she truly did, but in some ways she thought that more than anything, maybe she just liked that she didn't have to _try_ around him, because he seemed bound and determined to adore everything about her, like it was his job. There was no give and take between them, there was only that ease, and it was a nice enough feeling, but it was empty.

It was very empty.

Still, the idea of _hurting_ Killian, of letting him down, leaving him…that made her feel kind of sick.

"Hey," Killian said, catching her arm and stopping her. He looked at her closely, all joking gone from his eyes, leaving only concern. "You want to talk about it?"

She should. She should tell him. She should tell him right now, tell him everything, so that at least that, at _least_ that, would be out of the way, and her life could feel just a little bit less confusing than it was right now.

But she shook her head. Of course. Because she couldn't find the words to do it. And because she needed to be infinitely less sober in order to have _that_ conversation. And because she was a fucking coward.

"Well, you can, you know," Killian told her, voice surprisingly gentle.

She pressed her lips together. "I can what?"

"You can talk about it. Whatever it is. With me." He made kind of a face that Emma wasn't sure how to describe and added, "Look, I know you've got your new…bestest best friend in that ice queen."

"Elsa."

"Lovely girl. I see you two talking, laughing together all the time, it's just…"

He broke off and Emma suddenly recognized the look on his face. She still didn't know the right word for it, but it was a little bit of loneliness, and a little bit of wistfulness, some annoyance, some desperately trying to understand.

"I just want you to know I can do that too," he finished. "I can be there to talk, or laugh, or whatever you need, Swan."

He shifted his gaze awkwardly for a moment, then raised an eyebrow, adding quickly, "For beneath this rugged and dangerously sexy exterior, beats the heart of a best-best-girl-friend, I will have you know. I can paint fingernails, share secrets…_I even know how to braid hair_."

Emma found herself smiling weakly because he was being too nice to her, and that felt pretty awful.

"Afraid my hair's never looked that good in a braid," she mumbled quietly.

"Well then you can braid mine. I'll even let you do my nails- look, it's easy, you only have to worry about one hand."

He took a step in to her and kissed her, more softly than she remembered him having done before. And she thought, this is what she was supposed to want. This is what she could easily have. Something safe, and secure, both for herself, and for Henry…

And she didn't want it. She didn't want it, but she couldn't fucking handle the idea of hurting him, so she pressed her lips back against his for just a moment before awkwardly breaking away.

"And then we can move on to the secret-sharing part," Killian continued, pulling back from her just a bit, and there was an odd little flicker in his eyes, like he'd felt how reluctant she'd been. "That's all I want, Swan. I just want to get to know every part of you."

And that fucking hurt, didn't it. Because that actually wasn't a line. He really meant it.

She offered him a tight-lipped smile, the most she could muster at this point, afraid that if she tried to say anything, her voice might not be there.

"So?" he prompted. "How 'bout it, love? Girls' night? You and me? Hair, nails, and secrets?"

"Swan!" came a loud bark from up ahead.

Emma kind of gratefully separated from Killian only to find Regina standing a few dozen paces from them, looking at them appraisingly with one eyebrow raised high, and a hand on her hip.

Because what Emma really needed right now was some judgment on top of her guilt.

Steeling herself, she walked toward Regina, headed tilted in question, while Killian followed on her heels.

"I just got a call from David," Regina told her as they got closer. "Said he tried _you_ but you weren't answering your phone."

Emma checked at her pockets, and…that would be because she had apparently left her phone at the station. Or possibly in her pillowcase again. Great.

"What'd he have to say?" she asked.

Regina looked at her placidly for a moment before answering, "Seems your icy little friend found something on Arendelle after all. She said it was a royal record. And guess who's on it."

"Who? The Snow Queen?"

"Gold star, Miss Swan. You're not as stupid as you act sometimes."

It was a pointed remark, one matched by Regina flickering her gaze insipidly over to Killian before settling back on Emma.

"So if I were you," Regina continued, "I'd quit dallying with the pirate, and hoof it back to the sheriff's station. And settle. This."

She gave Emma another pointed glare before turning on her heel and marching ahead to catch up with the rest of the group.

"Delightful woman," Killian remarked, watching her leave. "Who do you think spat in her egg yolk today?"

Emma sighed. "Actually, I think that was her version of trying to be a good friend to me."

* * *

><p>For a day that had started out so well, things had spiraled pretty steadily downward all afternoon only to result that evening in a very hurt and angry ice queen, a very hurt and confused pirate, and a very hurt and lonely Emma.<p>

Also a _very_ irritated Regina as Emma knocked on her door at 11 that night, not feeling up to going home.

Regina gave her a quick once-over as she opened the door and stated dryly, "I take it you screwed it up with both of them."

Emma cleared her throat, not even sure she had it in her to look Regina in the eye.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Regina crossed her arms over her chest. "It's awfully late, Emma," she said. "Henry's in bed. I'm headed that way too."

"Please."

Regina regarded her for a moment, then stepped aside, opening the door wider so she could come in.

"This whole friendship thing is exhausting," she muttered as Emma stepped into the foyer, though Emma noticed a striking lack of venom in her tone, almost like Regina was attempting a joke, rather than an actual insult. It was hard to say for certain, though.

Regina led her to the dining room.

"Would you like something to drink?" she offered. "I have cider, apple brandy…"

"I'm fine."

Regina quirked an eyebrow. "_You're_ saying no to a drink?"

"Not the drink, just the apple part. I've learned my lesson with you."

Regina rolled her eyes, sitting down and motioning for Emma to take a seat as well. "I don't poison people anymore, dear," she told her. "_These_ days, apparently, I _save_ them."

Emma twitched a smile at her.

"Well?" Regina prompted. "Out with it. What ridiculous thing have you done this time?"

Emma leaned her elbows on the table, shaking her head. "I got into a fight with Elsa," she answered. "A bad one. And I broke it off with Killian."

"Well yes, that much I gathered from the miserable expression on your face, I was wondering more the 'how' part of it."

Emma sighed. "The Snow Queen's name is Ingrid," she said.

Regina raised her eyebrows. "…Which is somehow a valid reason to rupture your relationships with two people?" she asked.

"Elsa didn't know her name was Ingrid, not till this evening when she showed me that…royal record thing…and we figured out she's Elsa's aunt. But she said Ingrid's name this morning. In her sleep, as I was waking her up- I thought she was just mumbling something, but she said _Ingrid_."

Regina leaned forward. "I'm going to ignore the part where the two of you have apparently already slept together in spite of my advice against it, and ask you this: so what?"

"First of all we didn't _sleep together_, we just…_slept_…together," Emma grumbled. "Second…Elsa says she has dreams about the Snow Queen, about Ingrid, all the time. So I just thought, if she was saying her name in her sleep before she even knew what it was, maybe those weren't dreams at all, but memories."

"That's not a bad theory," Regina admitted. "Did she say what the dreams were about? Could she remember what happened in them?"

Emma hesitated. "She was really cagey about it," she said carefully. "She didn't want to talk about it. And, I don't know, it felt like she was keeping something from me and I…well, you know I hate it when people try to lie to me."

"Yes, I seem to recall you blowing the lid right off the Dark Curse within just a couple months of moving here. You're a bit of a pitbull when it comes to finding out the truth of things."

"Yeah, pitbull's definitely the right word," Emma muttered. "Belle and Killian were in the main office trying to come up with a way to put a stop to Ingrid…"

"I'm always amazed the two of them can stand to be in the same room as each other, given that he shot her in the back," Regina interrupted thoughtfully.

"…So I pulled Elsa into one of the interrogation rooms to try to get the truth out of her."

"And you were a pitbull about it," Regina guessed.

"It just didn't make any sense," Emma exclaimed. "Why she wouldn't answer, and the way she gets when she talks about her…by the end of it, it seemed like Elsa was actually _defending_ her, the two of them have this…_connection_...and I…I said something stupid."

"Specifically?"

"…I got jealous," Emma confessed.

Regina leaned her chin on her knuckles. "How marvelously hypocritical of you."

"That's pretty much what Elsa said. I mean, she didn't say anything about Killian, because she wouldn't, but I could tell that's what she meant." She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "Anyway, she got upset, and I got more upset, and there was some…unexpected snow-fall in the interrogation room, so Killian obviously showed up to see what was going on."

She paused. "Elsa left when he came in. And again, she'd never say anything, or do anything, but Killian's not stupid. He knows _something's_ up, and he started in on me so I just…told him I couldn't be with him right now. That I needed time alone."

"…So you kind of half-assed it."

Emma sighed. "I didn't really come here for you to insult me," she murmured. "I was just feeling like shit and kind of hoping for some…support, if you think you could stand to do that for me."

Regina pursed her lips. "Support requires looking on the bright side of things," she said in an almost gentle tone. "You may be better off looking for that from someone else."

"You're kind of all I've got."

Regina looked at her carefully for a moment, then sighed. "Alright, let's take a look at what you've gotten yourself into then," she said. "As far as the pirate goes at least, you managed to awkwardly break that off, so you're off the hook with him, so to speak."

That actually almost made Emma want to laugh. Almost.

"And you pissed off the ice queen, but that's likely fixable as long as you can figure out a way to apologize and learn to be a bit more charming."

"Are you making these puns on purpose or what?"

"Emma listen," Regina said, suddenly looking serious enough that Emma sat forward.

"I..._understand..._why you're so upset right now," Regina told her hesitantly. "Believe me, I get it, when you only have a small number of people you're close to and then something happens that makes you think you've lost them…it feels like the end of the world."

She straightened a little, looking maybe a little uncomfortable at the fact that she shared something in common with Emma, and also that she'd just come dangerously close to empathizing with her.

"Luckily for you," she continued, tone significantly loftier, "you haven't really lost anything. You've taken a step in breaking things off with the pirate, admittedly a clumsy step that you may someday want to smooth over with him, but it was a good step anyway. Now, you just need to stop acting like Elsa is somehow your enemy. It's a thing you do."

"What do you mean that's a 'thing I do?'" Emma demanded defensively.

"I mean that it's a thing you do. Whether I like it or not, Emma, you are a part of my life. And I notice things about people who are in my life. It's called being observant. And what I've observed about you is that you are startlingly good at shutting yourself off from people, and expecting them to turn on you. Your trust issues are nearly as bad as mine are. You isolate yourself, you keep people at a distance. You also do something peculiar with cinnamon in your hot cocoa, I'm not entirely sure what that's all about."

"Wow. You've observed a lot about me," Emma said, brows raising.

"Well you were a potential threat when you first moved here, I had to take note of all your weaknesses so I could destroy you."

"Oh. Right."

"What I'm trying to say, is that you need to stop moping," Regina told her. "And you also need to stop this ridiculous relationship self-sabotage thing you're doing with Elsa, because it's irritating and I don't want you knocking on my door at 11 at night begging me to mend your poor hurt feelings again. Just apologize to her, trust her…here's a thought, maybe take her out somewhere nice, learn about her like a normal person. _Something._ But for the love of God, please figure out a way to live at least somewhat happily ever after, because this is the last time I ever want to have a conversation like this with you."

Emma looked down at the table, not completely sure which part of that she should react to first.

"But what if I'm right?" she asked carefully. "About Elsa and Ingrid…what if there really is some kind of…connection…between them? Something…I don't know…more than what Elsa's saying?"

"If you're that sure there is, then there probably is," Regina told her honestly. "Whether Elsa even remembers it, who knows. Whether it's your place to judge someone based on their past…well. I'll leave you with that one. In the meantime, I think I've made my view on the subject quite clear. You don't smile a whole lot, Miss Swan, but ever since Elsa got here, that seems to be just about all you do. There has to be _something_ in that."

* * *

><p><strong>More AN:** _Ugh, I'm so sorry you guys, no smut again in this chapter, and way too much talking. Just needed to deal with the whole Hook situation and get that over and done with, but I promise, next chapter, I will give you all the smut. All of it. All the pridelands will be yours. And by pridelands, I mean porn._

_Also, P.S.- just wanted to say thank you so much again to everyone for reading/reviewing/following/etc and being so supportive. Anyone who's read my other stuff knows that I'm usually just all about the smut straight out the gate with very little actual story-telling, so thanks for being patient while I try to fumble out a balance between actual plot, character development, fluff, humor, angst, and sex, while also trying to stay sort of within the confines of what actually happened in the show. You guys are the best.  
><em>


	6. Interlude - Part 1: Best Laid Plans

**A/N:**_ Interlude chapter, not really attached to any of the episodes, more in-betweenish. It's a two-parter, second part will be up tomorrow._

* * *

><p>For a woman in a glittery blue dress, Elsa was surprisingly elusive. Though Emma supposed she did have 13 years of practice at avoiding people under her belt, so she was probably a pro at it by now.<p>

Still, it was pretty amazing that, even cramped into an apartment with four adults, an infant, and an occasional Henry, Elsa had managed to slip away from her at every turn for 5 days straight, not a word- hardly so much as a glance- passed between them.

Emma tried for both word and glance, but Elsa was as slippery as the ice she had control of, and she did _not_ seem to want anything to do with Emma at the moment.

And that was rough going, honestly. While she was relieved to have broken things off with Killian, she still felt that odd stab of _missing_ someone, even though she felt strangely more herself without him. She missed having that companionship, the ready, available presence. Her parents were around, of course, but it wasn't the same, and she feared pushing her luck with Regina, so she couldn't go to her…and damn it, if she couldn't have Elsa, she at least wanted to be around another human being who could bring her _some_ sense of happiness.

So she found herself lying on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, reading comic books on her floor with Henry.

"Why does he turn green when he's angry?" she asked absently, surveying the illustration of Bruce Banner changing into the Incredible Hulk.

Henry glanced up at her. "Gamma radiation," he told her, maybe a little too matter-of-factly. "But in the original comics it was just because it was an easy color for them to print."

"…And the purple pants are…by choice? Or is that part of like a self-inflicted punishment thing?"

Henry rolled his eyes, starting to answer, but Emma interrupted him with an, "Ack! You look like your mother when you do that!"

He blinked at her in confusion.

"When you roll your eyes," Emma clarified. "She's been teaching you how to be an Evil Prince, hasn't she?" Henry laughed and that was a nice feeling, hearing that. "Teaching you how to roll your eyes, and smirk, and make snide remarks about the plebeians?"

Henry shook his head through a giggle, and that was kind of funny because he was at that age where his voice was beginning to change so it made these awkward little breaks and cracks here and there. She realized she was having a mom moment, and swatted playfully at his arm with a comic book to keep herself from getting sappy.

"Speaking of my mom," Henry said, "what were you doing at our house the other night?"

And…caught. Emma rolled her eyes. Should have known that "Henry's asleep" meant that Henry wasn't asleep at all, was probably up reading comic books, or coming up with secret missions, or thinking about whatever kids his age…oh god, was Henry old enough to start thinking about girls? Did he have a girlfriend? Jesus, was he going to get married, move away and leave her too?

"Mom?" Henry asked, snapping her out of her moment of insanity.

"Sorry kid, I think I just had a stroke," she mumbled, shaking herself. God, she was _really_ lonely.

"So what were you doing at the house?" he asked again.

She looked at him critically. "What, like you weren't listening in on the whole conversation?" she asked.

"I tried," he admitted, grinning, "but I couldn't hear that well past the door. So?"

"I just needed some advice," she said. "About…things."

"Things?"

She hesitated. She was sort of reluctant to let Henry in on all this, not just because he was 13, and her son, but because she realized all of a sudden that she wasn't really sure how to broach the topic of bisexuality with her family. Growing up, she'd never really felt that sting of _otherness_ about her sexuality, because she'd never been concerned about the way it might affect the people around her. She didn't have family that lasted more than a couple months, and friends tended not to last much longer than that, and lovers _far_ shorter than that, so she never had that fear that she could…_lose_ people, over something like this.

She realized suddenly she had no idea what the reaction would be like here if she were to _actually_ be with Elsa. Everyone seemed so gung-ho about true love, but she realized she wasn't sure how far that idea carried.

And probably her 13-year-old son wasn't the one she should talk to about it first.

"I was just kinda lonely," she said at last. "Needed a friend."

Henry pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "I thought you were friends with Elsa," he said.

"I am, I just…needed some harsh reality handed to me and no one doles that out quite like your mom."

"True," he said, nodding knowingly. "So you and Elsa are…okay?"

That felt like a leading question and Emma was starting to think maybe he'd overheard a bit more than he was owning up to.

"…Sure, we're…fine," she lied carefully.

Henry nodded, turning back to his comic book. "Good," he said. "Because I think it means a lot to her, having a friend like you."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "And how exactly would you know something like that?" she asked.

He shrugged. "The other day when you and everybody were out looking for the Snow Queen, I hung out with her and Belle in the library," he said. "Belle left to go do something and, I don't know, me and Elsa just started talking. I showed her my Spider-Man comic book so then she made this little Spider-Man out of snow come to life. He was really small, like as big as my hand. She made him jump off things, and had him skate across the floor…Belle was really mad when she got back, the whole floor was soaked, but. It was cool."

Sure, so just add "is great with Henry" to the list of reasons why she was so hopelessly head-over-heels for Elsa.

"I think she likes being able to do magic out in the open," Henry continued. "Like when she was making the little Spider-Snowman run around, she said it was cool being around you, since you have magic too. She said it makes her feel less lonely."

Emma fixed him with her most critical glare yet. He wasn't looking at her, hadn't looked at her the whole time he was telling her that, was just gazing down at his little comic book.

Kid was up to something.

"Henry," she said sternly. He resisted looking up at her for as long as he could, then glanced up obediently under the pressure of her glare. "Be honest," she said. "How much of that conversation did you over-hear between me and your mom the other night?"

He shifted uncomfortably, but also kind of looked like he was barely holding back a smirk. "All of it," he confessed finally, corner of his mouth tugging very much _upward_.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" she demanded. "Then why did you-"

"I just wanted to see if I could get you to admit you like Elsa," he said hurriedly. "Because you always get all…closed off and weird…around the…you know…the TL thing."

"The what now?"

"True love," he said.

"Oh, Henry, I mean, I don't know if…true love's kind of…I don't know if this is…"

"Yeah I know, but it could be if you let it," he interrupted with a shrug.

She studied him carefully. "And you're okay with all this?" she asked him seriously. "Me and her?"

He shrugged again. "There's a princess in my storybook who fell in love with a frog," he said. "I figure you could probably fall in love with a spoon and I'd be cool with it. I kind of just want you to be happy."

That was way too close to making her want to get all gushy and emotional, so she reached over and got him in a headlock, ruffling his hair with her free hand.

"I love you, kid, you know that?" she asked, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Yeah yeah," he mumbled, craning his neck so he could get back to reading his comic book.

* * *

><p>Whether he'd meant to or not, Henry had provided her with the perfect excuse to force Elsa to talk to her. She hoped. Like, it was worth a shot at any rate.<p>

She charged into the sheriff's station where Elsa had been holed up for the past couple hours looking for more clues about what happened to Anna. "I need your help," she called urgently as she entered the room, shifting the backpack on her shoulder into a more comfortable position.

Elsa looked up, startled, worry immediately overriding her reluctance to talk to Emma. That was good, Emma thought, that was a good sign.

"Emma, what is it?" Elsa asked, concern creasing her brow as her eyes fell to the backpack and then flickered back up to Emma's eyes. "David isn't here, do you…"

"I don't need him, I need someone with magic," Emma interrupted, grabbing the younger woman's arm and beginning to pull her along toward the door.

"What is it, did you find something?" Elsa asked, scurrying to keep up.

"Just come with me," Emma instructed and Elsa, surprisingly enough, snapped her mouth shut and obeyed.

Emma led her through the streets of Storybrooke, winding her way through what she had learned to be the shortcut to where she was headed. A few well-placed back-alleys emptied them out right at the park, and from there it was just a few yards to the edge of the pond.

"I need you to freeze it," she told Elsa as they reached the edge.

Elsa looked at her quizzically. "What, the pond?"

Emma nodded.

"What on earth for?"

"Elsa, please? I'll explain in a minute, I just need you do this for me, okay?"

Elsa seemed to sense the urgency in her voice because her eyes took on that familiar panicked look and she protested, "I don't…you know my control isn't that good."

"It is when you try. I trust you."

"There are people around, what if I upset them, or one of them gets hurt…"

"I trust you," Emma said again, then added urgently, "Elsa, please."

Elsa looked at her carefully, then nodded, seeming to grasp that this was more or less a dire situation. She turned to the pond, stepping forward so her toes were precisely on the edge. Then she crouched down, extending one hand to the water, touching the tips of her fingers to the surface. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes in what looked like an attempt to center herself, then she opened them and exhaled slowly.

It was fucking beautiful, what happened. Starting at the point where her fingers touched the water, jagged patterns of ice skimmed in sharp splintering lines across the pond, extending and joining with each other in intricate geometric formations until finally the entire pond was frozen solid, sealing with a low, echoing _schunk_ at the far edge.

Emma felt a chill go up her spine that had little to do with the ice itself, more to do with the elegant display of power she'd just witnessed. Elsa may not have the _complete_ control over her powers that she desired, but what she did have was…art. And a hell of a lot more beautiful than Emma's sporadic ability to…set a thing on fire, or blow another thing up.

Elsa straightened and turned to face her, eyes bright and cheeks flushed from the exertion of magic and Emma kind of had to remind herself that she was on a mission here, there'd be plenty of time to ogle Elsa later.

"So what's happening?" the younger woman asked urgently. "Why did you need me to do that?"

Moment of truth…Emma unslung the backpack from over her shoulder, holding it open in one hand and rummaging around in it with the other until she was able to get a hold of what she was looking for.

She pulled the pair of ice skates up by the laces and held them up for Elsa to see.

Elsa regarded the ice skates for what seemed like a very long time before finally asking, "Am I missing something?"

"Nope," Emma told her, forcing the skates into her hands, and taking a second pair out of the backpack. "This is exactly what it looks like."

Elsa stared at her incredulously. "You tore me away from my search to find my _sister_ in order to go ice skating."

"I tore you away from a bunch of _files_ that have led you _nowhere_ in order to go on a date with me," Emma corrected her.

Elsa blinked at her disbelievingly for a moment, then angled her head, her eyes hardening into the ice queen mask. "This is absurd," she said shortly, attempting to hand the skates back.

Emma refused to accept them. "It's definitely one of the cheesiest things I've ever done, I'll give you that," she admitted. "But I'm serious about it anyway."

"I'm going back," Elsa huffed, dropping the skates unceremoniously to the ground and turning on her heel.

God damn it.

"Elsa-" she called, lunging forward and grabbing the younger woman's hand to stop her, dropping the skates in her hands to the ground as well.

Elsa wheeled on her, trying to pull her arm free, but Emma was stronger than she was by quite a bit and it wasn't all that hard to keep a hold of her.

"Elsa, listen-"

"Emma let go of me."

"I need you to listen though-"

"Emma I don't _want_ this," Elsa cut through her, eyes flashing.

That was enough to essentially freeze the blood in Emma. She stared, too surprised to speak, feeling like her heart had just dropped into her stomach.

Elsa looked very _Elsa_ again, vulnerable, kind of hurt, but she continued speaking, chin high despite the waver in her voice.

"This whole hot-and-cold thing with you, I don't want it," she said. "It's too confusing, I can't…you want me, but not when anyone's around. You're with me, but you're with Hook. You ignore me, but then you're jealous because of a dream I had. You're not afraid of me, but you're ashamed. There's nothing wrong with me, but actually there is…I can't do this, Emma, I can't. I'm not…"

Emma suddenly realized there were tears in the younger woman's eyes and tried to move forward, but Elsa jerked her head back warningly so she stopped herself.

"I'm not like you," Elsa told her, voice small. "I want to be, Emma, I really _really_ want to be everything you want from me, but I'm not…I don't know how, and I don't want to _feel_ like this, it _hurts_, Emma, you _hurt_ me. You're too nice to me and then you hurt me."

She suddenly looked _so young_ that Emma was left momentarily speechless. Looking at her, it was like every vaguely venomous piece of advice Regina had given her hit her all at once- how young Elsa was, how inexperienced, how honestly _afraid of herself_ she was. And to have Emma taking that fear away sometimes only to build it right back up again every time there was anyone else around, just…yeah, she fucking _had_ hurt Elsa. She was supposed to be this one stable thing in Elsa's life here, and instead she'd been the _absolute_ opposite of that.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled Elsa against her chest and wrapped her arms around her. The younger woman seemed too upset to put up a fight and let herself melt limply against Emma, not returning the embrace, but not pulling away either.

"You're right," Emma murmured, lifting her hand up to cradle Elsa's head against her. Elsa's body was tense in her arms and Emma got the feeling she was doing everything in her power to keep from crying right now.

"You're so right, Elsa," she said again. "I completely fuc- just…made a mess of this. I was trying to…" She sighed, pulling back to look at her. She had to lift the younger woman's chin because Elsa still seemed reluctant to look at her, but finally blue eyes met hers and…yeah, she really didn't want to miss looking into those eyes again.

"Look, you don't have to…do anything with this information but, you should know, I broke it off with Killian," she said.

Elsa's lips parted in surprise and she looked upset. "Emma…"

"Just…listen, okay?" she asked, and Elsa pressed her lips together seriously, nodding.

"I'm…shit with timing," Emma told her. "I jumped headlong into this thing with you without thinking, and without doing everything I needed to do in, you know, actual order. I just…I want you to know, it was never a choice, between you and Killian, right, it…I'm pretty sure it was you ever since the ice wall. I just have kind of a hard time letting go of people these days. That's sort of all I used to do was go from person to person, town to town, not really making any connections…but ever since I moved here and found my family, it's been different for me. I don't want to lose people anymore, I'm not…good at it. Even if it's what's best. I was holding onto Killian because I didn't know how to let him go, that's all. And I know that's not an excuse, I just…that's where I'm coming from. But it's always been you, ever since I first saw you. Cheesy as that sounds."

She chanced it and lifted a hand up to cradle Elsa's face. And maybe she shouldn't have been as relieved as she was when Elsa let her do it, but she was, actually sighing thankfully and stroking her thumb along Elsa's cheekbone.

She huffed out a small laugh, barely containing an eyeroll at herself. "God, I saw this day going so much differently in my mind," she muttered, shaking her head. "I had this whole thing planned out, I was gonna go skating with you, and take you to dinner, and see if you wanted to try practicing magic together…like really sappy, romantic things that magic people could do together on a date, if that's a thing." She sighed. "Kind of turned into a train wreck though, huh?"

Elsa regarded her silently for a moment before slipping her hand up to cover the one Emma had at her cheek.

"There are people sitting at the bench behind you," she said.

Which, as far as possible responses to Emma's little speech went, was not anywhere near what she'd been expecting to hear.

"What?"

"A little ways off, there's a bench, with people on it," Elsa repeated. "If I kissed you right now, in front of them, where they could see if they looked over here, would you let me, or would you pull away?"

Emma felt this rush of warmth everywhere that she wasn't sure the source of, and her eyes fell unthinkingly to Elsa's lips. And honestly, PDA not really being her thing even on a _good_ day…

Whatever, the rest of the world could fuck off, Emma tightened her fingers in Elsa's hair and pulled her in and kissed her.

Elsa didn't respond right away which, honestly, sent Emma into a minor panic. Like, maybe this was one of those times when she really should have waited for the younger woman to act first.

But then Elsa parted her lips and started kissing her back, kind of tentatively at first, but then with a little more…vigor, and just…suffice it to say that if anyone of the people at the bench behind them _was_ watching, they'd have quite a show.

Much too soon, though, Elsa was pulling away from the kiss and Emma barely contained the moan of protest she felt building at the back of her throat. It had been five fucking days since she'd kissed Elsa last. The way she figured, she needed to kiss Elsa for at least another five days straight to make up the difference.

But Elsa gave one of her small, shy smiles and said, "So are we going to do this? Your…date? That you planned out?"

And honestly, Emma wasn't sure she had it in her anymore to be all cute and charming and romantic the way she'd planned for, she was still kind of reeling from this jumble of emotions she hadn't been expecting to have to deal with today, most of them revolving around a desperate fear that she'd lost Elsa.

But like, the skates had actually been pretty expensive to rent, and Elsa was looking at her with…well, her _face_, so probably she should just buck up and do what she'd set out to do in the first place, which was win Elsa over and grab onto her and never let go.

So she stepped back, offering her arm mock-chivalrously to the younger woman, who took it with a playful curtsy, and escorted her back to the pond.

That saying about the best-laid plans was fucking right, absolutely _none_ of this was the way she pictured. But it was kind of better in some ways because Elsa kept hold of her hand the whole time they were on the ice together, and the combination of Elsa touching her, and Elsa smiling at her, and also, she supposed, the fact that she was gliding maybe a little faster than was advisable around a giant frozen pond, was all adding up to make her feel like she was flying.

* * *

><p>She wasn't fucking flying though.<p>

She was a flailing mess.

She held her own pretty well for the first twenty minutes or so. And Elsa kept pulling her along, even skating backwards, moving like this was what she was _built_ for, like she was completely at home on the ice, _part_ of it even, and that was kind of amazing watching that.

And then it was kind of cute, she guessed, because there were some kids walking by who noticed the pond was frozen, and they came over, running and sliding clumsily across the ice, laughing and…whatever, frolicking. Kid things. It made Elsa smile and send a miniature flurry their way, so that was kind of sweet.

But Emma was not a skater. She was strong, and she was athletic in most respects- could even be _graceful_ when the occasion called for it- but _ice_…ice was not a thing she was all that good with, never had been.

Needless to say, she fell, hard, on her ass, and managed to bring Elsa down with her.

The kids thought that was fucking hilarious. Emma thought that was fucking painful. Elsa thought that was a fucking perfect opportunity to slide on top of Emma and kiss her.

So then the kids thought that was gross, and Elsa thought she should probably bite Emma's lower lip, and Emma forgot what to think, and what thinking was, and what anything was, except Elsa's mouth.

All in all, not a bad consolation prize for the giant purple bruise she was sure to be sporting on her ass for the next several days from her fall.

Eventually, the two of them separated from the kiss when one of the kids took it upon themselves to hurl a snowball at them to make them stop, and Emma realized she was laughing and blushing like an idiot and she started getting to her feet, helping Elsa up as well. It was kind of a struggle- staying upright on skates was hard enough; trying to get her footing on the ice while giggling was a nightmare. Mostly, she and Elsa just ended up in a heap a couple more times, with a couple extra banged-up knees and elbows to add to the rest of their minor injuries.

Finally giving up on trying to stand, Emma decided to crawl her way back over to the bank of the pond, while Elsa rose effortlessly to her feet and skated beside her. It would have been humiliating if they both hadn't been laughing so hard.

"So?" Elsa asked, plopping herself down beside Emma on the edge of the pond and beginning to take her skates off. "What's next?"

"What's_ next_?" Emma asked, untying her own. "We're _wounded_, what's next is we go home and sit on ice packs for a week."

Elsa feigned a pout. "You said you had a whole day planned out," she said.

"Sure, that was before I broke my tailbone."

Elsa gave a dramatic little whine and leaned in to kiss her neck right beneath her ear, nipping and sucking delicately on the skin. Which was not fucking _fair_.

"…I mean, I guess I was thinking we could go to dinner," Emma gave in finally, trying not to shiver at Elsa's lips on her throat. "Like…fancy dinner. With wine and…French things. Food. French food."

Elsa pulled away from her neck with a small but very triumphant-looking smirk.

"We'd have to change clothes obviously," Emma added, looking down at the mess that was her scuffed-up jeans and jacket.

"I don't exactly have anything else to wear," Elsa pointed out laughingly.

"Well, I'll let you raid my closet," Emma offered. "You're a little taller than me, but you're small, there's probably a dress or something in there that'll fit you just fine."

Elsa gave her kind of a curious look and Emma realized that queens probably didn't like, _share clothes_ with other people, that was probably like a really uncivilized thing to do or something, but then the younger woman nodded, looking possibly intrigued by the idea. Then she glanced across the pond to where the group of kids was still sliding across the ice, chucking snowballs at one another.

"You should probably tell them to get off the ice," Elsa advised with a smile, "or they're going to be up to their necks in water when we leave."

* * *

><p>Mary-Margaret was out at some hybrid Mommy-and-MeGirl's-Night-Out thing with Ashley for the evening, and David was on duty till later that night, so Emma and Elsa had the apartment to themselves to begin finding Elsa something to wear.

It wasn't exactly time-consuming- Emma had a grand total of three dresses to her name and one of them was stained beyond repair from a slight misadventure with a bowl of pasta, so really it was just two. And even then it was really just one, because the other was the one she'd worn on her first and last date with Killian, and Elsa was looking at it with an expression of faint disgust.

"Here," Emma said, pulling the only real option out and handing it to her. Then she paused because she wasn't really sure… "I'll uh, leave you to try it on."

"Emma don't be silly, I'm not going to kick you out of your own room," Elsa lilted, taking the dress from her and positioning herself in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the inside of the closet door. And with no preamble whatsoever she began to peel out of the dress she had on.

Emma cleared her throat, looking away quickly. "Yeah no, of course, that would definitely be…silly," she agreed awkwardly. "I'll just…be…over here. Just. That's where I'll be."

She turned and stared very intently at the top of her dresser, preoccupying herself with wiping the film of dust that had gathered off it. Because it was dirty and it needed to be clean. And Elsa was naked behind her probably but she wasn't going to look because that would be all kinds of trouble. And it was really warm and maybe she was sweating a little and also there were things and stuff she should be thinking about right now that had something to do with a thing that was not Elsa probably maybe somewhere…

"Emma? Can you help me with the back?"

Emma turned to face her and did her very best to remember what breathing was.

The dress was a dark, bold red, not a color Emma would have ever thought to associate with Elsa, but…fuck. This was a pleasant surprise. It was form-fitting and skin-tight; on Emma, it had reached nearly down to her knees, on Elsa it only went down to about mid-thigh. The top came up in a halter around her neck that fastened in the back, displaying a narrow but fucking tantalizing strip of cleavage.

This had been Emma's in-for-the-kill dress back in the day when she was a bail bondsperson, the one she'd used to bait many a particularly elusive bail dodger. Now that the tables were turned, and _she_ was the one having to try to keep her wits about her while a fucking stunning blonde woman stood before her in it, she was pretty sure this dress was completely unfair. To everyone. In the world. She actually felt sorry for the men she'd baited with it. It was just…fucking _rude_ how absolutely unfair this dress was.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered Elsa had asked her for help with the back of the dress, so she inwardly shook herself into the closest she could get to a functional state, and stepped forward. Elsa turned to allow her access to the back of the dress, explaining, "I can't get the…"

"The zipper, yeah," Emma breathed, not really having meant to _breathe_ it, it's just that now she was once again looking at the long elegant curve of Elsa's spine where the dress was open all the way down to the base of her lower back. And her hand actually did go to the zipper with every intention of…zipping it up…but then it seemed to develop a mind of its own because Emma suddenly realized she was trailing her fingers all the way up that perfect spine, and then back down.

Elsa stood perfectly still, but Emma heard her breath catch a little, and that was enough to encourage her to add her other hand, running both of them lightly across the younger woman's back and up across bare shoulders, thumbs sweeping against the hard ridge of her shoulder blades. Then she curved her fingers, raking blunted nails lightly back down.

She heard Elsa inhale sharply, barely concealing a whine, and something about the fact that Elsa seemed to be trying _really_ hard not to react made something snap in Emma and before she knew what she was doing, she had stepped in to the younger woman, pressing herself flush against her bare back, one hand sliding down to slip around her waist, her mouth latching on to the side of her neck.

This time Elsa didn't try to contain her moan, melting back against Emma's chest as Emma attacked her neck with lips and teeth. The younger woman's hand lifted back to tangle clumsily in Emma's hair, pulling hard, holding her to her neck while her other hand flew down to grip at the arm Emma had around her waist.

Feeling dizzy with the amount of _Elsa_ she had at her fingertips, Emma dared to slide her hand from the younger woman's waist up to to palm her breast, a soft, fucking perfect handful under the thin fabric of the dress. Elsa arched at her touch, craning her neck to the side to try to catch Emma's lips with her own, biting her lower lip a little too hard when Emma circled her thumb over the hard peak of her nipple straining at the confines of the dress.

Seeming to find the angle of the kiss not to her liking, Elsa pulled Emma's hand away from herself and turned to face her, throwing her arms around her neck and resuming the kiss where they'd left off. She seemed more in control this way, which was fine, but Emma _really_ kind of liked having her a bit more on the helpless side, so she slid both her hands down to either side of Elsa's waist and then let one trail down even further to knead at her ass.

And _that_ seemed to be a good spot- Elsa's grip tightened in her hair almost to the point of being painful, and she seemed to lose her balance for a moment, accidentally pushing impossibly closer into Emma and breaking away from the kiss just to keep from falling into her completely.

She paused to catch her breath, panting and whimpering into Emma's mouth, while Emma held onto her, dipping her head to press light kisses to the side of her neck.

Finally Elsa seemed to catch her breath, and she managed out "Emma?", voice small and careful.

Emma stilled her movements, angling her head back slightly so she could look at her, afraid she might have pushed too far. The younger woman's cheeks were flushed and she looked kind of dazed and needy and it was _really hard_ not to just lean back in and continue kissing her when she looked like that, but she forced herself to keep still.

"Uhm, I don't really…" Elsa stammered out, glance falling nervously to the ground. She bit her lip and her cheeks looked about ready to catch fire.

Emma took her cheek in her hand, trying to get her to look back up, inviting her to continue.

Elsa huffed awkwardly before finally locking gazes with her and murmuring, "I don't really want to go out to dinner tonight."

"Oh, uh," Emma said, loosening her hold on Elsa. "Sure, I mean, there's probably leftovers in the fridge, or…we could order in maybe…"

"No, I mean…" Elsa pressed her lips together and slid her hands down to Emma's waist, fingers hooking into the hemline of her tank top and toying with it nervously. "I mean I'd rather...I want…this." She began gathering the tank top into her fists, starting to push it hesitantly upward, up Emma's body.

"So what, you…?"

The tank top was being lifted up past her bra now.

_Oh_. Oh _that_. By _this_ Elsa meant _that_.

_That_ that.

"W- hang on Elsa," she stammered, closing her hands over the younger woman's wrists. Her mind was racing. "Maybe we should slow down for a second, just…think about this…"

Elsa looked a little confused, kind of crestfallen, like she was afraid she'd just made a mistake. And she hadn't, like she really fucking _hadn't_, but Emma hadn't been expecting this quite so soon.

"Just…" she breathed. Elsa stared back at her, eyes wide, looking like she was waiting to be told what to do, like all she wanted was just to please Emma, _be_ with her, and that was kind of too much.

Emma exhaled slowly, actually beginning to feel _herself_ get a little bit nervous, which she wasn't expecting, and tightened her grip on Elsa's waist.

"Are you sure?" she asked the younger woman earnestly, searching her face closely for any sign of hesitance. "Because you don't need to feel like you need to do this for me, like we can take it slow if you…"

But Elsa shook her head, looking completely sure of herself, despite the nervousness.

"I want to, Emma," she said. She crowded into Emma shyly, nuzzling into her neck before she lifted her lips to Emma's ear and murmured, "Please."

Which, what the hell was Emma going to say to that, _no?_

So she took Elsa's face in her hands, trailing her fingers down to her neck, and then slipping them around to the clasp of the dress's halter top.

She hesitated at the last second.

"I need you to tell me to stop, if it's too much, okay?" she asked.

Elsa nodded obediently. "And you tell me to stop if it's too much for you," she returned softly, corner of her mouth curving up just a very little bit.

Emma laughed and kissed her, because she was too sweet for words, and slipped her finger under the clasp.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _I know, I'm a fucking tease. I promised you all the porn, only to end the chapter there…but wait! Before you begin gathering the pitchforks and torches, this is only the first part of the interlude- the chapter was getting way too ridiculously long so I decided to split it into two parts, this one, and the one I'll be posting tomorrow which contains the rest of the smut for you. I really do keep my promises, I just had to do this chapter-splitting thing or it was going to get way too wordy and your brains might explode. Or my brain might explode._

_So stick with me, my beautiful internet friends/distant faceless acquaintances, I promised you smut, and smut you shall have, just gotta be patient for one more day for me while I do some last-minute edits of the second half._


	7. Interlude - Part 2: Good Girl

**A/N: **_Smut. Boom._

* * *

><p>Emma knew herself well enough to know that self-control, particularly when it came to sex, was not one of her strong points. She had a tendency to be aggressive, demanding, even rough. And that had always been okay before because she was usually dealing with men or women who had sort of...been around the block a couple times.<p>

But she realized rather suddenly as Elsa's dress went whispering to the floor that she had never been anyone's _first_ before. And suddenly faced with Elsa completely bare and sort of trembling before her, this felt like kind of a staggeringly big responsibility, and her instinct to protect Elsa from everything at all costs was currently at war with her _other_ instinct to throw Elsa on the bed and tear her apart.

So she did what she thought they could both handle right now and just kissed her, slowly, hands skimming down lightly over Elsa's arms, trying to keep control over herself.

Elsa melted easily into the kiss, sighing deeply, and started drifting her hands up Emma's sides, bringing the edge of the tank top with her, trying once again, and not so subtly, to lift it off her.

It made Emma laugh in spite of herself and she nipped Elsa's lower lip playfully. "You just really want this off me, don't you?" she teased.

Elsa nodded, giving the shirt another insistent tug upwards. "It's only fair," she whined against Emma's lips, so Emma laughed again and helped her pull the shirt over her head. Then she unclasped her bra and threw that to the side because she was pretty sure Elsa wasn't going to know how to get that undone, and suddenly she was faced with a very red-cheeked Elsa staring wide-eyed at her breasts, looking like she'd forgotten how to breathe.

It was like the whole towel incident all over again, Elsa all paralyzed and shy with _want_, and it was much too cute to be allowed, so Emma pressed in and started kissing her again, this time harder than before.

It was different now that so much of them was skin-to-skin. Everywhere from the waist up she was rubbing up against the softest skin she'd ever felt in her life and she felt her control slip several notches, shoving her tongue into Elsa's mouth and backing her urgently toward the bed. Elsa gave a sharp, muffled moan of surprise against her mouth, wobbling slightly from the unexpected movement, but she didn't try to resist, allowing herself to be pushed down onto the bed with a slight gasp.

Emma leaned over her, feet still planted firmly on the ground and scrambled to find some sense of self-control again as she had just come dangerously close to forgetting herself. She realized the self-control thing wasn't going to happen so long as she was hovering over Elsa with her tongue in her mouth like this, so she straightened up to a standing position, running her fingers through her hair as she tried to steady her breathing and her heart rate.

Elsa, looking vaguely puzzled and very flushed, sat up carefully, scooting to the edge of the bed. She gazed up at Emma, eyes dark, and reached a hand tentatively to the waistband of her jeans, fingers hooking questioningly into the belt loops.

Emma looked down at her, breathing still very pronounced, and reached her own hand out to cup Elsa's face, brushing her thumb over the younger woman's lips. Elsa wanted this. There was no doubt about it from the way the younger woman was gazing up at her all adoringly and a little pleadingly. But Emma just…she so wanted this to be _good_ for her. Elsa _trusted_ her and just…fuck, she _never_ got nervous about sex, _ever_, but this was _Elsa_ and it was her _first time_ and just…

"Emma?" Elsa asked softly, interrupting her thoughts.

And just…_fuck_, again, because she was fucking nervous but she also fucking loved this, Elsa looking up at her like that, lips parted and red, fingers toying with the top of her jeans, it was causing all this heat to curl in the pit of her stomach and between her legs. And maybe what she really needed was just to stop _thinking_ because Elsa was tugging at her jeans and the needy way she was looking at her was actually making her feel a little more confident so just…alright, fine, that was settled, no more fucking _thinking_. She was done with that.

With a small reassuring smile, she batted Elsa's hands away from her pants, lifting one knee up to rest on the edge of the bed.

"Elsa, scoot back for me," she requested, and the younger woman scrambled to obey, scooting back to the head of the bed. She sat awkwardly, with her knees clenched uncertainly together, worrying at her lip like there was no tomorrow, and Emma was kind of struck again by how much she _liked_ nervous Elsa, how it appealed to this strange, primal side of her. She crawled up the bed, kneeling in front of her and beginning to push the younger woman's legs apart.

Elsa's breath suddenly came a bit faster and she flinched a little, hands twisting in the sheets, but she didn't try to stop her. Emma nodded approvingly, not really meaning to, and once her legs were parted enough, she slipped her way between them, leaning down and bracing her arms on either side of the younger woman.

She leaned in to kiss her hard in order to get her to stop biting at her lip, because that was _Emma's_ job, and Elsa returned the kiss a little frantically as it was the only familiar thing she could latch onto right now.

Still kissing her, Emma began to lower herself down, breasts brushing against Elsa's, making them both moan. She pressed in, settling her center against Elsa's, grinding herself up just once against the younger woman, a jolt of pleasure shooting through her entire body as she did.

Elsa gasped, throwing her head back at the contact, so Emma did it again, starting to circle her hips slowly. And Elsa made this kind of low, long drawn-out groan way in the back of her throat, hands coming up to grip at Emma's arms. Then she yelped sharply as Emma ground up hard again, and probably that had hurt a little bit because her jeans were pretty rough, and Elsa was pretty soft, but Elsa's yelp quickly dissolved into a series of breathy moans, so it was probably okay.

Still, she reminded herself this was about Elsa, not her, and she wanted this to be perfect for her, so she pushed herself up, sitting back on her heels and starting to undo the button of her jeans. Elsa struggled to prop herself up on her elbows, panting as she watched her shimmy out of her jeans and underwear, getting that same kind of stunned look on her face as before, only this time it was a little darker, a little more hungry.

Jeans disposed of, Emma eased back in between her thighs and just…_fuck_. She hadn't realized through the denim how fucking _wet_ Elsa was but now that she didn't have anything in the way, just…Emma groaned, feeling her head spin a little. She started up circling her hips against the younger woman again, and it was so _slick_, and Elsa whimpered, arching up.

Emma reached through the haze in her mind to try to regain some sense of herself and leaned down again, catching Elsa's lips with hers just briefly as she continued grinding into her. She separated from her quickly though, leaning her forehead against Elsa's, panting because they'd barely even started and already she felt so fucking good.

She managed to take a shaky, somewhat centering breath and took Elsa's face in her hand, lifting her chin up so she'd look at her, continuing the slow circle of her hips into Elsa's.

"You okay?" she asked breathily.

Elsa looked like she was struggling to focus, but she nodded up at her, licking her lips.

"Good," Emma breathed, stroking her cheek. "Good girl."

And that must have struck some kind of a chord in Elsa because the younger woman arched back suddenly with a whine, eyes slipping shut, and she started shifting her hips up in earnest against Emma, trying to match her rhythm.

Emma stared down at her, not having expected that, but it was really fucking hot so she ground down even harder and said, "You are, Elsa, you're being such a good girl right now. So good."

And Elsa seemed to fucking _glow_ at being praised, crying out and bucking up against Emma, one leg sliding up to hook around her waist. Emma groaned back at her because this was more her pace, faster and louder, not so gentle, and she dropped her head to the juncture between the younger woman's neck and shoulder and started sucking marks into her throat.

All at once, she felt Elsa start to shudder a little under her and that was no good, that was too fast. Emma had a hell of a lot more she planned on doing, she wasn't ready for Elsa to come just yet, not by a long shot. So she pulled up abruptly, denying Elsa any friction and tried not to laugh when Elsa whimpered in protest, looking up at her like she'd just been horribly wronged.

"Not so fast," Emma chastised gently, and because she couldn't help it she leaned in and kissed her, still not letting any other part of them touch.

Elsa groaned and tried to loop her arms around Emma's neck and pull her in closer, but Emma grabbed her wrists, forcing them back down on the bed and pinning them above the younger woman's head.

"Nuh-uh," she tsked as Elsa panted up at her, expression pleading. "I thought you were a _good_ girl," she said, allowing a note of disapproval to color her words.

Elsa's eyes went wide and she squirmed. "I am," she whispered. "I _am,_ Emma."

Emma hummed pleasantly, leaning in to brush her lips briefly over Elsa's, not quite kissing her before she pulled back up. She was too fucking sweet, and too fucking easy to tease.

"If you're a good girl," she said slowly, tightening her grip on Elsa's wrists and planting them even higher above her head, "you'll keep these here while I fuck you. Don't move them. Understand?"

Elsa nodded eagerly, tongue flicking out subconsciously to wet her lips.

"And you're not allowed to come," Emma added, releasing her wrists, "until I tell you you can. Alright?"

Elsa nodded again and Emma nodded back, beginning to trail her fingers down Elsa's stomach.

"Good girl," she praised, and Elsa shivered a little, but she kept her hands obediently by her head like she promised.

Pleased, and kind of surprised with the turn this had taken, Emma returned her attentions to the task at hand, bending her head to take Elsa's nipple into her mouth. She sighed contentedly as Elsa squirmed when she nipped at the bud, sucking on it harder until Elsa let out a small cry.

Then she shifted herself back, beginning to kiss her way down Elsa's quivering stomach, pausing to nip and suck at a couple places because she could tell by Elsa's whimpered breathing that she was having a hard time being a good girl and she kind of wanted to see how far she could push her.

Once she reached her hipbone however, Elsa twisted under her and cried out, "Emma, wait-" frantically enough that she was afraid she might have hurt her.

She lifted up immediately to see what was wrong, and Elsa was staring at her wide-eyed and panting, but with her hands still right by her head where they were supposed to be, clutching at the sheets.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked her, searching her face for signs of pain.

But Elsa nodded urgently. "Just…" she panted. She looked sort of feverish. "…I just want you here. With me."

Emma ran her hand soothingly up Elsa's stomach. "I'm right here, Els."

"_Please_, Emma," she begged, voice sounding a little broken. "I need you closer. Please."

Emma nodded, climbing back up her body, sinking down and kissing her deeply, taking the younger woman's wrists and placing her arms around her neck where she knew Elsa wanted to be holding her. And much as she really wanted to taste between the younger woman's thighs, she understood it, Elsa needed her up here this time, closer to her, so she continued kissing her, trailing her hand down her body slowly, pausing just above her center.

She broke the kiss, looking down at her for affirmation. "Yeah?" she asked.

Elsa hesitated, biting down on her lip, but then nodded, breathing out, "Yeah," in this almost heartbreakingly trusting way.

Emma kissed the corner of her jaw and dipped her hand down, running her fingers slowly through soaking wet folds. Elsa shivered, crying out and gripping her fingers into Emma's shoulder as Emma gathered the moisture on her fingertips and slid them up to circle Elsa's clit.

She nosed at Elsa's neck, watching her face closely as she glided her fingers back down again, this time circling carefully at her entrance. Elsa's chest rose and fell rapidly with ragged breaths, but she looked up at Emma, gaze completely full of trust, so Emma slid her fingers slowly inside.

And she felt _so fucking amazing_ inside, Emma felt her own breath catch at the same time that Elsa arched upward, head going back and a strangled moan escaping her lips. She was tight, but she was also so fucking wet that two fingers went in easy. She pumped them in and out of her, powerfully but not all that quickly, letting Elsa get used to the feeling.

"Mmm…_Emma_…" Elsa moaned, her own hand sliding down to Emma's waist, reaching up and dragging across her back.

Emma dipped her head and started kissing under her ear, picking up speed, grinding herself a little against Elsa's thigh, using her own thigh to push her fingers in deeper. Elsa threw her head back, eyes squeezing shut as she panted out harsh breaths, arching and writhing underneath her.

"Emma…" she whined again.

So Emma pressed harder, pushing her palm in circles against her clit and curling her fingers inside her. She was starting to strain against Elsa, pleasure shooting up through her every time she ground down against her thigh. She realized the bed was creaking under them, and that was really fucking hot to her for some reason, so she picked up her speed even more and Elsa gripped hard at her back, nearly every breath coming out in a whimper now.

"_Fuck_, Els…" she moaned without meaning to. "You're so fucking gorgeous, Elsa, you're being so good."

Elsa cried out, her voice getting higher with each stroke of Emma's fingers, and she looked like she was barely aware of anything around her, except maybe Emma. She looked up at Emma pleadingly, fingers digging into her skin, looking like she was fighting herself, shivering and whimpering raggedly, but still not quite tipping over the edge.

And then Emma remembered- she had instructed Elsa not to come unless she told her to.

Heat fucking surged through her at the realization that Elsa, in spite of everything, was trying _so hard_ to be good, and to please her, and she groaned out, "Oh, _Els_. Elsa, you can come, baby, come for me it's alright."

The fucking _second_ the words were out of her mouth, she felt Elsa clench down hard around her fingers, entire body going rigid for a moment before she shuddered violently and fell apart with the most desperate-sounding cries Emma had ever heard.

It seemed like an eternity before the younger woman finally wound down, body going completely limp as she continued to utter these impossibly soft little moans with every exhale she took.

Emma held her, dusting light kisses across her jaw and at the corner of her mouth as she calmed down, waiting till her breath was mostly even before she withdrew her fingers from inside her, resisting the urge to draw them into her own mouth, and kissing Elsa deeply instead.

When she pulled back, Elsa opened her eyes slowly, gazing up at her, looking fucking wrecked and exhausted, but also _so fucking gorgeous_ Emma was momentarily paralyzed.

Vaguely, she was aware of this gentle pinprick of cold all across her back, but it wasn't until Elsa's eyes widened up at the ceiling that she realized snow was falling all around them, so softly she had barely noticed. Then she panicked slightly because snow-fall was usually a sign of distress, and her hand flew up to cradle Elsa's cheek.

"Are you okay?" she asked urgently, searching Elsa's eyes.

Elsa just nodded up at her, this really sweet kind of dazed smile slowly starting to spread crookedly across her face.

"I'm fine," she breathed. "…Just…lost control…Emma that was amazing…"

And that sort of made Emma's heart sing a little bit, but she still glanced furtively up at the gentle flurry, feeling it having gathered on her back. "But you're…?" she tried again. "I mean, the snow…"

"…It'll stop," Elsa breathed again, reaching up to trace her finger at Emma's mouth. "…I just need to get control over it again, just…give me a minute."

She looked so _content_, not worried about her powers, not worried about anything, and slowly, Emma began to feel the room warm again, snow disappearing as if it had never been there.

Sighing deeply, Emma sank back down on her side into the bed sliding her hand up to stroke her thumb along Elsa's cheek. There was still a dull ache between her own thighs, but Elsa didn't look anywhere near functional enough to do anything about it right now.

And that was just fine, honestly, like this was maybe the best botched-up date Emma had ever been on and she was kind of just really happy to hold Elsa and fall asleep with her here. The younger woman was already curling up to her, nuzzling her head underneath Emma's chin and wrapping her arms around her.

And realistically she knew she was probably going to wake to a swirling blizzard above her head, but as she pressed a kiss to the top of Elsa's head and began drifting off herself, she realized she was kind of looking forward to it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_See? Kept my promise._

_So I'm thinking about adding a third part to the interlude, with a wee bit more smut and a tad bit more fluff before returning to the actual plot…What do people think about that? More of the cute awkward sex, or just get on with the story? I leave this to you._

_Thanks again, cats and kittens, for all your patience and support. I adore you all deeply, safely, and from a respectful distance.**  
><strong>_


	8. Interlude - Part 3: Rush

**A/N: **_Alright, kids. You asked for it, here it is: Interlude Part 3, bringing you more smut, more fluff, and even some things that are going to tie us back into the actual story for next chapter. Thanks again to those of you who are reviewing/following/etc, and thanks also to those of you who are lurking anonymously in the shadows…you're all wonderful, thanks for sticking with me (especially when it takes me longer than expected to update…sorry about that)._

* * *

><p>Much to her surprise, Emma did not wake up to a swirling blizzard above her head; instead, she woke to Elsa nibbling at her neck.<p>

Which was fucking _infinitely_ more pleasant.

It took her a second to piece together exactly what was going on and to remember why exactly there was a naked Elsa completely wrapped around her, and why she was waking up to what seemed to be evening, rather than morning. When it all came rushing back to her, however, she grinned sleepily and rolled over on top of Elsa, taking the younger woman by surprise, making her giggle as she stretched lazily against her and nuzzled into the sweep of her neck.

"Kind of thought you'd be out for the rest of the night," she commented finally, propping up just slightly on her elbows so she could look down at Elsa. "What time is it?"

Elsa turned her head and strained to grab Emma's phone off the nighstand to check, but was a little hindered when Emma started trying to devour the side of her throat because actually, on second thought, that seemed much more interesting than finding out what time it was. Elsa giggled and squirmed, trying to push Emma off her so she could reach the phone, so Emma finally released her with a self-pitying groan, easing some of her weight off her so she could actually move, and rolling onto her back.

Finally free, Elsa twisted onto her stomach, getting herself closer to the nightstand and picking the phone up, checking the time.

"Almost 7:30," she reported, angling her head back to look at Emma, looking kind of proud of herself for having just used modern technology so efficiently. Then she blushed a little because Emma had really made no effort to hide the fact that from this angle she had a completely unhindered view of her ass and was ogling it pretty shamelessly.

"Almost 7:30…" Emma echoed absently, bringing her hand up to stroke between the dimples in the younger woman's back, tracing them lightly. So they'd actually only been asleep for a couple hours. Which meant…She sighed, looking up at Elsa.

"Your parents will be home soon," the younger woman said, before she could.

Emma nodded, dropping her gaze because she knew this was kind of exactly what they'd been talking about before, what they'd been _fighting_ about before…Emma's insistence that this was all fine, rather flagrantly undermined by her reluctance to make it known to anyone.

Elsa put the phone down and slid over to her, leaning down to kiss her softly, and then deeper when Emma skimmed her hands up the sides of her back . When she pulled back, her expression was careful, uncertain.

"Would it be bad?" she asked.

Emma tilted her head. "What, if my parents came back and found us like this?" she teased, running her hand down to squeeze Elsa's bare ass. "I don't think _bad's_ the word for it, more like…nightmare-inducing…"

Elsa smiled, squeaking a little at the squeeze, but corrected seriously, "I mean if they knew about us."

Emma sighed deeply, casting her gaze up at the ceiling on the off chance it might have some answers. "Honestly, I don't know," she said. She looked up at Elsa, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind the younger woman's ear. "I…y'know, I'd like to think it would be fine, that they wouldn't have a problem with it, but I just honestly have no idea. And that's kind of the scariest part. I just don't know."

Elsa dipped her gaze thoughtfully, absently leaning into the hand Emma had at her cheek. "They love you," she said softly. "The way they are with you…I've never seen parents act that way before. Proud, supportive. They really love you."

"Doesn't mean I won't lose them if I'm not…y'know…perfect. Or whatever. Whatever that means here." She rubbed at her face, shaking her head and offering as much of a laugh as she could come up with. "God, I still don't even know what that means _anywhere_ let alone here."

Elsa just looked down at her with this expression of complete understanding, not saying a word, just…being, with her, and seeming to know exactly what she was trying to say. Like, Emma could _feel_ it, that understanding, just radiating off of her like it was a physical thing and that felt…really fucking good. She shrugged the feeling off and muttered, "I just don't want to lose anyone again."

Elsa looked at her seriously, taking her face in her hand. "Emma?" she said carefully. "I promise I'll never do anything to make you lose anyone. I mean if you, if this is just…"

"Elsa, you're one of the people I'm not willing to lose," she interrupted with a small smile. She raised an eyebrow, adding teasingly, "Sort of thought that would have been pretty obvious."

Elsa blushed a little, saying, "No, I know that, I'm just saying…"

But Emma was kind of uninterested in what she was "just saying" because this was getting way to heavy for having just woken up, and anyway Elsa had nothing to worry about, so she snaked her arm around the younger woman's waist and expertly flipped them over so she was on top, bending her head down toward Elsa and kissing her to make her stop talking.

When she pulled back, Elsa looked kind of adorably surprised by their sudden change in positions, like she hadn't quite registered how that had happened so fast. She started blushing and grinning like crazy though and she squirmed a little bit under her which felt better than it should have. Good enough that it kind of made Emma consider the fact that it was 7:30 so they still technically had another half hour or so before David and Mary-Margaret got home, and there was like, a lot that Emma could probably do with Elsa in that amount of time if she really set her mind to it.

Her plans were somewhat thwarted however, when Elsa's stomach suddenly gave out this long, low grumble and the younger woman turned an even brighter shade of red, breaking into an embarrassed peal of laughter, and curling her head up to hide her giggles in Emma's shoulder.

"Did you have something to say, Your Majesty?" Emma asked laughingly, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

"I'm huuungry," Elsa whined through her giggles, drawing the word out in such a completely un-queenly, un-Elsa-like way that Emma had no choice but to kiss her again. Relaxed, post-sex Elsa was giving her all sorts of warm fuzzy feelings that were kind of more in her heart-area than anywhere else and it was making her feel weirdly giddy.

"We could still go out for dinner?" she suggested, not sure what to do about the feeling. "I mean we kind of missed our reservation for that French place, but maybe they'll let us…"

Elsa shook her head. "Let's just go to Granny's, it's close," she interrupted. "We can get pancakes like we did last time."

"For dinner?"

"You're saying that like it would be silly."

Emma grinned, pressing one more quick kiss to Elsa's lips, because what the hell _else_ was she supposed to do when they were _right there_, then rose up to her knees, crawling off the bed.

"Granny's it is," she said, extending her hand to Elsa and pulling her up. Elsa stumbled into her a little bit which just led to a few quick moments of groping and kissing that were totally _not_ Emma's fault. Then she slipped her hand down to the younger woman's lower back murmuring, "You should probably wear the red dress," and then propelled her toward the front of the room where said dress lay discarded on the floor, slapping the younger woman's ass playfully as she went.

Elsa glanced back at her, looking maybe a little bit scandalized by the slap, but also seeming unable to contain this really pleased-looking grin. So _that_ was cute. And definitely something to keep in mind for the future.

The two of them dressed quickly, Emma finding her way back into a slightly less-scuffed-up pair of black skinny jeans, and a dark grey top that certainly wasn't going to win any kind of fashion awards, but it clung to her in a way that showed her figure off really well, so that more than made up for its plainness otherwise.

She helped Elsa zip up the back of the red dress, this time managing to do so with only a couple quick bites to her shoulder blades instead of what happened last time. Then she ran to the bathroom to do something about her hair, and to like, wash her hands and whatever, while Elsa remained behind to redo her braid which had just gotten completely and adorably trashed in the last couple hours.

By the time they both made it downstairs, it was nearing 7:55. And true, it's not like there was any particular need for them to get out of the apartment before Emma's parents returned now that they were fully-clothed and not tangled up in each other, but Emma just kind of wanted to keep going on this high where nothing existed in the world except Elsa. No complications. No questions. No uncertainty. Just Elsa.

Maybe Regina was right. Maybe she _was_ a little obsessed with the younger woman. But it was just a _little_.

And her heart did _not_ leap for joy when Elsa slipped her hand into hers. It _didn't_.

It did leap, however, and not so much with joy, when they opened the front door and nearly walked smack into Mary-Margaret with baby Neal in her arms, just coming home from her evening with Ashley.

Elsa dropped her hand like it was on fire and Emma's heart dropped a fraction of a second after, from the loss, and from this shocking jolt of guilt.

"Emma!" Mary-Margaret exclaimed in surprise, and Emma wasn't sure if it was just her imagination that her mother's eyes fell to the space where Emma and Elsa's hands had just been linked or not. Either way, her smile looked just slightly less than genuinely pleased as she took in Elsa's dress.

"Are the two of you going somewhere?" she asked. Her voice seemed purposefully pitched for some reason. Or maybe Emma was making that up. She wasn't sure why her heart was pounding so hard, or why she seemed incapable of responding.

Luckily Elsa still had her wits about her and stepped in, answering smoothly, "Emma and I were just going to run out and get some dinner. Are you hungry? We'd be happy to bring you back something if you'd like."

Smooth as fucking silk. Totally composed. No wonder she was a queen. Jesus. Emma was still struggling to find words.

Mary-Margaret hesitated a little, glancing fleetingly back and forth between the two of them, looking like she was trying to figure…something. But then she shook her head in answer, giving a tight smile. "No, thank you, Elsa," she said, voice nearly as polished as Elsa's, and just as oddly deliberate. "I ate already.

"But Emma," she said, directing her attention to her daughter, "text me when you're on your way back, would you? I don't want to put Neal down only to have him wake up from the two of you coming home. I'd just as soon keep him up a little later, try to keep him on a more solid sleep schedule."

Emma managed a nod, and a mirroring smile, and even a "Sure, no problem" that sounded pretty in control.

"Also, are you still up for baby-sitting him tomorrow afternoon?"

Emma nodded again, having most definitely forgotten about that, but recovering pretty well she thought, so Mary-Margaret smiled back and stepped out of the way so the two of them could get through the door.

Emma waited until they were outside on the sidewalk before she said anything to Elsa.

"You didn't have to do that."

Elsa glanced at her placidly. "Do what? Tell your mother exactly where we're going and offer to bring her something back to eat?"

"You know what I mean."

Elsa regarded her carefully for a moment, then slipped her hand back into Emma's, cold and soft. "I was wrong to get mad at you before," she said quietly, "for not being upfront about us. It's not as if I'm all that forthcoming either, and I've been more scared of this whole thing than you ever have been. I don't want to be your secret that you keep from everybody, but I meant it when I said it, I'm not gong to do anything to put your relationship with your family in danger. We'll figure it out, Emma. I promise I'll support whatever you do. Okay?"

Emma sighed, looking down at their hands. It was unnerving sometimes, Elsa's ability to go from wide-eyed innocent to…this. Polished, regal, but also…understanding. Comforting. Protective.

Maybe unnerving was the wrong word. More like…kind of beautiful. Or whatever. It just made her feel like she really wanted to hold onto Elsa for as long as possible. Like, fuck everything else, fuck the Snow Queen, the Spell of Shattered Sight, Arendelle, her duty to Storybrooke, everyone, all of it…she just wanted Elsa to be hers. All hers, no one else's, the end, happily fucking ever after.

She wasn't really sure how to say something like that without sounding stupid though, or stupid_er_, so she brushed her thumb up over the ridge of Elsa's knuckles and squeezed her hand.

"Okay," she agreed.

* * *

><p>Friday night meant Granny's was packed, mostly with families and the dwarfs. Not exactly a <em>date<em> spot- Ruby had dragged her out to some club across town once, but that had been kind of _beyond_ shady, probably run by people who had once been villains back in the Enchanted Forest and Emma wasn't exactly willing to bring Elsa to a place like that.

(Not to mention, she wasn't totally sure she'd ever be able to find it again. The drinks there had been insane, she had literally no idea how she'd managed to get home that night.)

She looked at Elsa apologetically after the waitress at Granny's haughtily informed her how long they'd have to wait to get a table.

"Half hour," she said, nudging the younger woman. "You gonna make it?"

Elsa brought her hands pitifully to her stomach, then looked out through the window. "They have seating outside," she observed, looking at Emma hopefully.

Emma looked to the waitress who gave them a mildly irritated scowl. "It's like, _freezing_ outside," the waitress drawled.

Elsa looked surprised. "…Oh," she said, glancing at Emma. "Then. Never mind."

"No, no, it's not _freezing_," Emma assured her, which wasn't exactly true. "More like…_brisk_." She turned back to the waitress. "We'll take the table outside."

The waitress looked at them with a pretty heavy coloring of disgust before rolling her eyes and mumbling, "_Fine_, but I'm totally suing if I come down with like, hypothermia or something because of you."

Then she huffily snatched up two menus and led the way outside, scowling at Elsa who looked more than a little confused to learn that it was cold out, and maybe a little crestfallen that that seemed to be considered a negative.

Emma decided she didn't like this new waitress. She had all of Ruby's attitude with none of her inherent charm, and on top of everything, had just managed to insult a queen. If Emma wanted to sit outside in the cold with the girl she was really into so that said girl wouldn't have to starve for the next half hour, then she'd fucking well do it, she didn't ask for this bitch's opinion.

In reality though, it actually was pretty chilly outside and it was taking a lot for Emma to keep from shivering as they waited for their food. She practically dove headlong into the pancakes when they finally got there, glad to find them warm enough that the scoop of ice cream piled on the side was melting into a veritable puddle on the plate.

She glanced up between giant mouthfuls of toasty warm pancakes to see Elsa absently wave her hand over her own scoop of ice cream, re-freezing it to perfect form before digging into it with great gusto. The younger woman looked up, pausing when she realized Emma was watching her and tilted her head curiously.

"What?" she asked, peering at her. "Why are you smiling?"

Emma shook her head, pointing her fork at the ice cream. "It's just…what you can do with your magic, it's really…"

"Don't say cool."

Emma grinned. "It is though," she said. "I mean you keep saying you don't have great control over it, but you keep doing these little…things. Like, _useful_ things, without thinking, like it's just part of you."

Elsa blushed, looking kind of self-conscious but also sort of pleased with the compliment.

"Well what's your magic like?" she asked, biting down on another scoop of ice cream. "You never talk about it."

"It's uh," Emma paused, watching her lick the ice cream from her spoon. She cleared her throat. "Unpredictable, I guess. I didn't even know I had it till…maybe a year ago? Less? Mostly I'm only aware of it when I get angry, though it shows up other times too. I never really know. It's kind of like it's not really there, until suddenly it is. And then it _really_ is."

"Hm," Elsa hummed sucking thoughtfully on the end of the spoon. "That's sort of the opposite of me, I feel mine all the time. It takes more concentration for me to keep it in than anything else. If I let my guard down…well, you know."

"Orgasm blizzards. Sure."

Elsa's cheek's blazed pink and she bit her lip against a smile, gaze dropping shyly. "It wasn't a _blizzard_," she mumbled.

Emma grinned and nudged her ankle playfully with her foot under the table, no longer feeling all that cold.

"So you don't have that?" Elsa asked, looking back up. "That sort of…constant feeling, like it's always there, like you always have to control it?"

Emma shook her head. "No, for me, it's like total calm most of the time, and then all of a sudden out of nowhere it's just…heat. All through me. Like, kind of unbearable heat. But it's kind of a rush, too, I mean…sort of dizzying, but in a good way."

Elsa looked at her. "That's…" she began, and then blushed.

"What?" Emma prompted.

"Nothing," Elsa said, shaking her head and looking away.

"What?" Emma pressed grinning, nudging at her ankle again.

"Just…I was going to say, that's sort of what you do to me," Elsa mumbled, sneaking a shy glance up at her before looking back down, seeming suddenly hyper-focused on tracing abstract patterns into what was left of the ice cream with her spoon. "I'm fine and I'm comfortable most of the time, but then you show up and…like you said. Just…_heat_. And I don't even normally _feel_ heat that much, but with you, everytime you're around me…" She sighed, and it was a little uneven. "It's kind of unbearable sometimes. It feels…really good, but it also makes me feel…not in control."

Emma wasn't sure why that made her feel like actually _purring_, but it did, possibly because she really liked the idea that Elsa was maybe as crazy about her as she was about Elsa. She reached her hand out to skim her fingers over Elsa's wrist, suddenly really wishing there wasn't a table in between them and asked, "So is the not-in-control thing…bad?"

Elsa bit her lip, still refusing to look up at her face, but staring down at Emma's fingers stroking her arm. "No, I…kind of like it I think," she said softly.

"You think?"

"I really really like it."

Elsa blurted it so fast and so abruptly that Emma almost felt like laughing. Except that mostly she just felt like lunging across the table and tackling Elsa to the ground and fucking her right there. On the ground. The thought made her hand flex involuntarily around Elsa's wrist and the younger woman's gaze finally snapped up to hers, her lips pressing together anxiously.

"So…" Elsa said, shifting.

"So Granny's is also an inn," Emma barreled over her without meaning to. She felt her face redden and pulled her hand back, running it nervously through her hair. "I mean like, in case we…in case you were…if you wanted to not go home…just yet. Or whatever, I mean, if you want to also that's fine, just like. There's…rooms here…that are like…here…if you…"

She was so wrapped up in her own nonsense babbling, she almost didn't register that Elsa was already on her feet, pulling her up with her.

"Yes," the younger woman told her.

"Yes?"

"We should get a room. Right now."

* * *

><p>Emma was kind of impressed with herself- she thought she came off as pretty convincing when she told Granny they needed a room just for Elsa since the apartment was getting kind of crowded, and that she was just going to go up with her and help her settle in. And sure, Granny gave her this <em>look<em> like she'd raised _Ruby_, did Emma really think she could get anything past her, but still, Granny didn't actually _say_ anything, just handed over the room key with a raised eyebrow and a patiently amused pursing of her lips.

So Emma guessed she hadn't actually succeeded in fooling her, but at least Granny wasn't going to like, draw attention to it or something.

They made it up the stairs clumsily, with a lot of tangling of limbs and tugging at clothes. And then once they actually reached the room, Elsa made getting the door open really fucking difficult when she sidled her way between it and Emma and then proceeded to suck a deliciously stinging mark into Emma's throat, all the while raking her fingernails up underneath her shirt. Emma nearly dropped the key three times before she was finally able to blindly jam it into the lock and push the door open, spilling them both into the room, kicking the door shut behind them.

Elsa immediately started trying to pull her toward the bed, but Emma like, did _not_ have it in her to make it the extra ten steps forward, so she pulled Elsa back toward her instead, spinning them both so that Elsa ended up shoved up against the door with Emma's knee in between her thighs.

And that was _so much better_. Emma needed to always be this close to Elsa, holy fuck, everything was fucking _perfect_ when she was pressed into her like this. She kissed her hard and messily, reaching down to ruck the skirt of Elsa's dress up over her hips as Elsa moaned and ground down against her thigh.

She felt a sharp tug at her scalp as Elsa's fingers tightened in her hair and surprised herself by feeling suddenly kind of weak in the knees, like that actually felt really good. Painful kind of, but not in a bad way. At all.

Growling a little bit, she realized she really needed to not be standing right now or they were probably both going to fall, and she already had that one bruise on her ass from ice skating earlier, she really didn't need another one, so she gathered what control over her limbs she still had and clumsily maneuvered herself and Elsa back toward the bed.

Elsa gripped at the lapels of her jacket, pulling her crashing down onto the bed with her. The younger woman arched up, no longer just kissing her, she was biting, sucking, licking into Emma's mouth in a way that had to be fucking _unholy_ and was making Emma way too hot to be wearing all the layers she had on.

She straddled Elsa's waist, raising up so she could rid herself of her jacket and shirt and was kind of shocked but also really turned on when, as she did that, Elsa wasted zero time in going straight for the button of her jeans and began to pull them down Emma's thighs. Emma stared down at her for a moment, loving the look of intense concentration on the younger woman's face as she pulled them down, the way her lips looked really fucking swollen, really fucking _kissed_.

It was enough to make Emma impatient, grabbing Elsa's wrists away from her legs and surging downward to get at her neck even though her pants were only halfway down her thighs. She needed to be inside Elsa right now or she was probably going to explode.

Except…suddenly she felt this pressure on the front of her throat and it took her a second to realize that Elsa had her hand there and was pushing her gently away. By the throat. And that was kind of surprising, and also kind of hot, and under any other circumstance she'd probably let herself enjoy that feeling, but more importantly at this moment…why the hell was Elsa pushing her _away_?

She looked down at her quizzically, intending to ask her what was wrong, but having some trouble with words through her panting.

Elsa just shook her head, clearly trying to wrestle control over her own breathing, and loosened the pressure of her hand on Emma's throat, brushing her thumb soothingly over the hollow of it.

"…'S my turn," she said breathily. She shifted nervously. "I want to…do what you did to me."

Heat _shot_ through Emma, pooling like liquid fire between her legs and she had to consciously stifle what would have been an extremely needy-sounding moan at Elsa's words. She shifted her hips unthinkingly against her, needing to take the edge off just a little so she could actually _focus_ on Elsa.

"What _exactly_," she murmured, voice darker than she intended, "do you mean by that?"

And Elsa was all shy and blushing again which was Emma's favorite, but she also had this look of determination that made Emma really need to continue grinding her hips against her for _some_ kind of relief.

Elsa swallowed thickly, not answering right away, probably because she wasn't comfortable _talking_ about it, and maybe because she wouldn't have known the words to describe it anyway, not specifically. But she trailed her hand from Emma's throat down her body, pausing briefly at her lower belly between her hipbones before finally sliding it down to run her fingers against her sex.

"_Shit_," Emma gasped in surprise, pleasure instantly beginning to crackle through her at the younger woman's touch. At the same time, Elsa let out this equally surprised whimper, stroking her fingers harder but also much slower through her folds, like she was savoring the feeling. Emma felt pressure building in her just from the look on Elsa's face- the younger woman looked completely stunned, and almost needier than Emma felt.

"Emma…" she whined breathlessly, continuing her slow ministrations. Her breath caught, and she looked like she was struggling to comprehend something. "Emma you're so…"

…Fucking _wet_, was what Emma was, but Elsa didn't say it, just broke off in a long moan, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip like she was getting off just from _touching_ Emma. Which was really fucking hot, but also Emma needed _more_. She needed more _right now_ because this tortuously slow sliding of Elsa's fingers against her in _almost_ the right place but not quite, was probably going to kill her.

"What were you going to do?" she suddenly heard Elsa ask her breathily, and it took her a long moment to wrench her mind into functioning enough to stutter out, "What?"

"When I stopped you," Elsa said, voice sounding strained, "at the apartment, when I told you I needed you closer. Before that. What were you going to do to me?"

Her thumb slipped over Emma's clit and Emma let out a loud, appreciative groan, reflexively grinding down hard on Elsa's hand, so fucking grateful for that pressure. _So_ fucking grateful.

She fought through the haze of pleasure in her mind and choked out, "Just wanted to taste you," arching down into her as the younger woman began to circle her clit, too slowly, _way_ too fucking slowly.

Elsa nodded up at her, and that look of determination seemed brighter than before, or maybe that was just because her face was so flushed.

Either way, the younger woman bit her lower lip and said, "That's what I want to do to you." She swallowed. "I want to taste you."

Emma froze, mostly to keep from exploding, and Elsa responded nervously by stopping her ministrations as well. Emma stared down at the younger woman, feeling like a fish caught on a hook, pretty sure her mouth was hanging open, pretty sure she looked really fucking stupid.

"…Yeah?" she breathed out, because that was the only word she could think of.

Elsa nodded jerkily, looking kind of unsure of herself again, like she didn't know if she'd just said something wrong, or something right.

(She had fucking said something very _very_ right, but Emma was still stuck on "yeah" as the only word in her vocabulary for the moment so she couldn't really think of anything particularly reassuring to say to her.)

Realizing how fucking embarrassing it was that Elsa could turn her into a brainless, speechless moron just by _talking_ to her, and not even saying anything particularly _dirty_, Emma mentally shook herself. Like, this was just sex, nothing Emma hadn't done hundreds of times before.

But something about the idea of Elsa licking up between her thighs was more than she had dared to hope for this early on, especially given how inexperienced and kind of tentative Elsa was, and the anticipation of it was making it hard for her to be all that coherent. So she mentally shook herself _again_, and eased back onto her heels, running her hand down Elsa's torso. Then she closed her hand around Elsa's wrist and pulled her up, sliding her other hand around the back of her neck to pull her in and kiss her hard, hoping that might suffice as the physical equivalent of "yes please, by all means feel free to eat me out until I come all over your face, that's a terrific idea."

She pulled back from the kiss after a moment and scooted into a sitting position, swinging her legs over the side of the bed so she could get her pants all the way off. Elsa must have gotten the message through her kiss that this was a good thing because quite suddenly, the younger woman was off the bed and kneeling on the floor in front of her, eagerly helping her slide her jeans off over her feet.

So…cool. Emma sighed contentedly at the sight, leaning back on her hands to let Elsa finish undressing her herself, feeling instantly more in control, more…powerful, in a way. And really, there was no need for Elsa to be on the floor, like it would probably be a lot more comfortable for her up here on the bed with Emma, but Emma _liked_ this. She _liked_ having the young queen on her knees on the floor, looking up at her all heavy-lidded and glossy-eyed, hands absently wandering up and down her thighs, waiting to be told what to do so she could please her.

Emma leaned back a little, angling her hips forward and spreading her legs wide. She couldn't help but smile a little to herself when Elsa's eyes went round at the sight, hands tightening their grip subconsciously against her thighs.

Making sure she had Elsa's full attention, she ran her own fingers through her folds, dipping two inside herself slowly- which, _God_, she'd really fucking needed that- and then sliding them out again, coating them in slick wetness.

Elsa watched spellbound as Emma reached the hand forward, touching her wet-coated fingers to the younger woman's mouth, painting them across her lips, parting them.

"This what you want?" she asked, finding her voice startlingly husky.

Elsa whimpered, maybe from the sound of it, maybe from the feeling of her fingers at her lips, the smell of them, and she nodded, looking up at her pleadingly, so Emma went ahead and dipped them in her mouth. Elsa immediately leaned forward and began sucking on them, eyes fluttering closed as she moaned with what sounded a lot like relief.

Emma's stomach lurched pleasantly at the sight and sound, part of her imagining she could probably spend _hours_ watching Elsa suck on her fingers like that. But at the same time, the throbbing between her legs had returned with a vengeance and she was going to need someone to do something about that _soon_. So she withdrew her fingers from Elsa's mouth, ignoring the younger woman's little sound of protest, and slid her hand down to cup Elsa's jaw, guiding her head forward between her legs, maybe not quite as gently as she should have.

Elsa just sighed shakily when she got close enough to start skimming her lips against her inner thigh, turning her head into it and nipping softly. It made Emma smile a little because it was something she'd just started noticing; the more confident Elsa got, the more she tended to bite when she kissed.

Emma let her legs fall open wider, urging Elsa to move this along, and the younger woman obeyed with a final, seemingly intentionally sharp nip to her inner thigh that made Emma hiss and thread her fingers tightly through Elsa's hair. She couldn't be sure because her head was starting to swim a bit, but she thought Elsa might have glanced up at her with a very small smirk. Then she quickly forgot about that because Elsa turned her head and licked a blazing hot stripe all the way up her center, starting at the base of her entrance and ending with her tongue swirling quickly around her clit.

Emma gasped, fingers tightening probably pretty painfully in Elsa's hair because what the _fuck_. And Elsa kind of hummed, nuzzling back in closer and doing it again, this time closing her mouth over her clit and sucking just really briefly before she let go and then like, just dove right in, running her tongue between Emma's folds, sucking, exploring, taking in as much of Emma as she possibly could.

And…really though, what the _fuck_. What the hell happened to shy, tentative Elsa? It was like that first kiss all over again- unpracticed, but so _willing_ and so _attentive_, like Elsa was cataloging every breath Emma took, every slight clenching of her muscles, analyzing until she figured out _exactly_ what Emma wanted without having to be told or guided or anything. Just fucking _letting go_ and _doing_ and then_ twisting_ and…

Emma threw her head back and groaned, thrusting her hips forward against Elsa's face, just fucking _using_ her at this point as jagged spikes of pleasure rocked through her entire body. And Elsa kept moaning against her like there was nowhere on earth she'd rather be, and much quicker than she'd expected, Emma found herself struggling to stay together, thighs clenching around Elsa's head as she wound her fingers in her hair, cursing under her breath, trying to find every single spark of friction she possibly could.

At last, Elsa's lips closed around her clit and she sucked hard, and Emma found herself pleading breathlessly, "Fuck, Els…_fuck_, just fucking…_Elsie_- fuck- _fuck_, don't stop!"

And then she was just…fucking _gone_, just swept up in a rush of ecstatic heat, too fast and too hard for her to control, and she was barely aware of the way she might have just actually screamed Elsa's name, arching back and hooking her legs over Elsa's shoulders, pulling her in against her as hard as she possibly could.

She shuddered through the after-shocks, almost more bewildered than anything else as she trembled slowly down from her high.

Finally, she felt her arm give out behind her and she collapsed on her back, panting and staring up at the ceiling for a long time because she didn't remember having come that hard in…forever, maybe. She grew vaguely aware of Elsa climbing back on the bed, edging into her and kissing her neck and Emma allowed herself a moment to actually chuckle contentedly, because holy fuck, that was maybe the most incredible thing she'd ever felt.

She looked up at Elsa, somehow actually feeling another surge of heat roll through her as she took in the _mess_ she'd made of her lips and face and quickly pulled the younger woman in to kiss and lick her as clean as she possibly could. Elsa whimpered when she pulled away, looking suddenly shy and vulnerable again now that everything was fading back to at least quasi-normal.

"Uhm, was that…" the younger woman mumbled shyly. She huffed nervously. "Was that…okay?"

Emma actually rolled her eyes, because honestly, what the _fuck_ Elsa, and quickly rolled over and pinned the younger woman beneath her, reaching one hand down to hook her leg around her waist. Because, _yes_, most intense orgasm she'd had in a long while, but also, if there was one thing she prided herself on it was stamina and anyway she'd never been just a one orgasm kind of girl, _plus_ they had this room as their playground for the entire rest of the night and she was going to make damn sure she paid Elsa back for every fucking single burst of pleasure she'd felt. All fucking night, if that's what it took.

* * *

><p><strong>More AN: **_Just thought I should add…even though the interlude is over, don't worry, this whole thing is still going to be chock-full of porn for you, it'll just be a bit briefer and more connected to what's going on in the plot. But don't fret, I would never leave you guys completely smut-less. I'm not a **monster.**_


	9. Practical Magic (4x07 deleted scenes)

**A/N: **_Warnings: We're back to the story so there's some angsty-angst coming up. Also, we're going to start getting into Elsa and Ingrid's history, just a little, which again, incest warning. It won't get into too much detail in this chapter, but later on it will, so I'll make sure to warn you before that happens._

_Chapter takes place all throughout episode 4x07- before, during, and after._

* * *

><p>It was possible that Emma was going to have to replace all of Granny's wood flooring because chances were, those panels were going to be seriously warped after the amount of snow-fall that had occurred in their room over the course of the past eight hours.<p>

Not that she was bragging or anything. It's just that Elsa hadn't successfully managed to keep control over her powers a single time that Emma made her come.

(And Emma had made her come…quite a few times.)

(Which meant a lot of snow-fall.)

(So maybe Emma was feeling a little bit smug about that.)

(But only a little.)

And sure, at first, the whole indoor-snow-storm thing had made for kind of hilariously disjointed sex, with Emma having to burrow under the covers afterward to keep from freezing to death (they always warned you about pregnancy and STDs when it came to sex, no one ever mentioned the risk of hypothermia), but eventually the two of them fell into a kind of rhythm; as the flurries ebbed, and Elsa recovered, the younger woman would decide it was her very solemn duty to keep Emma warm in the best way she knew how, and that way usually involved her finding her way between Emma's legs in one capacity or another.

(For her part, Emma was just glad that her own powers were still distant enough to her that she didn't have to worry about them accidentally setting _fire_ to everything every time Elsa made her come. Now _that_ would have been a problem.)

She awoke _incredibly_ reluctantly to the sound of her phone alarm that morning, blearily trying to smack it into silence before remembering that wasn't how phones worked. In some ways, she kind of missed old alarm clocks- you could beat the shit out of them and feel at least slightly better about the fact that you were having to actually wake up. But no, phones you had to _gently slide the thing across_, or _carefully push the stupid button_…it was way too fucking polite for something so jarring. But whatever. Once she civilly got it to shut up, she sat up slowly, blinking to get her life back into focus.

She had gotten very little sleep last night. Obviously. And it really wasn't even totally her fault- Elsa had woken her up three separate times during the night demanding more…once with her tongue between Emma's legs…so _that_ had been pretty awesome. And then the younger woman had pointed out that she still had a lot to learn about sex so they should probably keep going until she had things completely perfect. And Emma had _tried_ to explain that she was already leaps and bounds ahead of where she had any right to be and that they could always continue her _education_ in the morning, but Elsa was a perfectionist, and that made Emma kind of competitive, so maybe things got a little out of hand.

Long story short, Emma was really fucking tired and she didn't want to get out of bed and go to work when it was much more enticing to just roll over and spoon up against Elsa and sleep for the entire rest of the day. But she had 12 missed calls from Mary-Margaret frantically wondering where she was and if she'd been killed by the Snow Queen, a text from Henry wondering if she could help him with a book report later, and a voicemail from Belle saying something about a magical translation of a book from Arendelle, and it was just…like where did all this real life come from all of a sudden?

She looked down at Elsa who was stretched out languidly across most of the bed, still dozing, having slept right through the phone alarm and Emma's drowsy battle with it. That thought actually made Emma kind of smug too. Elsa was a much better sleeper when she was worn out beforehand.

She slipped out of bed quietly so as not to wake her, or accidentally startle her and bring on another miniature blizzard, and made her way to the bathroom. She winced a little when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror- in particular, the neck-chest region of her reflection.

There were a couple things she'd learned about Elsa last night- one, was that Elsa really, _really_ liked to please. At first she had mistaken the younger woman's surprising prowess for confidence, but every time the focus shifted back to _Elsa_, the younger woman reverted back to bashful uncertainty. She seemed most at home when she was between Emma's thighs in one way or another, finding comfort in knowing she was doing something that made Emma happy. The younger woman grew noticeably even more content if, while she pleased her, she had Emma's fingers twisting in her hair, and even _more_ so if Emma told her what to do.

That was the second thing she had learned last night: Elsa loved being told what to do. Emma wasn't sure if that was some kind of weird reverse royalty complex or something…didn't matter, Emma was _more_ than happy to play into that.

The third thing she learned, and the one that was quickly becoming sort of _glaringly_ obvious as she stared at herself in the mirror, was that Elsa, in spite of her general submissiveness, was maybe a little bit possessive, and seemed hell-bent on marking her. Everywhere. She may as well have tattooed "PROPERTY OF QUEEN ELSA OF ARENDELLE" all across Emma's body for the number of love-bites Emma was looking at right now.

She sighed, trying to make herself feel annoyed instead of stupidly warm and happy about that fact, and reached over to turn on the shower. Real life was at least going to have to wait until she was clean and a bit more clear-headed before she dealt with it.

She stepped into the shower, twisting up the heat more than was completely necessary. It's not like she was cold or anything, she just kind of needed something that was very warm, very _not_ Elsa, right now in order to drag herself back into real-world-mode, back into work-mode.

Of course as luck would have it, the sound of the shower must have woken Elsa up because Emma wasn't in there more than five minutes before the young queen wandered in, pulling back the curtain and murmuring a sleepy "G'morning" as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. So much for _that_ plan. Emma was upset. _Really_. _Especially_ when Elsa shook her hair out of its braid and stepped into the shower with her, right under the steady fall of water and went straight for Emma's neck. That was just the _worst_.

Alright fine, it was the best. Because Elsa was being really gentle with her neck, actually looking kind of startled by the damage she'd done, and seemed to be trying to softly kiss each mark better. Not that they were all that painful. But Elsa seemed to think this was very important work she was doing, soothingly pressing her lips feather-light to each individual mark she'd made.

Emma sighed contentedly, slipping her arms around Elsa's waist and letting her do it. It was really kind of sweet, actually. Like Elsa…really liked her. And cared about her. In a way that Emma wasn't all that used to.

She was surprised by how much she liked this, honestly. Like after a night of really intense, maybe overly-excited sex, this sort of…_softer_…thing was kind of nice. Nicer than she really knew what to do with.

And she was turned on by it, obviously, because really most things about Elsa turned her on, there was no getting around that. But it was different this time. More comfortable. Not so…frantic. Like she could actually take her time and enjoy just _touching_ her without needing to grab her and wrestle her onto the nearest hard surface in order to keep from spontaneously combusting.

Elsa finally lifted her head from Emma's neck and pulled back slightly to look at her, lips curving up shyly.

"Sorry I mangled your throat," she offered, bringing her fingers up to trace at the marks she'd made last night.

Emma felt herself grin at that, leaning her forehead against Elsa's. She tried to think of something teasing to say back to her, but she was just so _comfortable_ right now and _happy_ that she settled for kissing her instead.

Elsa returned the kiss languidly, completely unhurried, lips soft and pliant under Emma's. She licked softly into Emma's mouth, taking her time, letting her hands trail slowly down and around, and then up again so she could drag them down Emma's shoulders.

Emma moaned deeply against her mouth, backing her up a couple steps to press up against the cold tile of the wall. And, God, she really fucking hated real life. Why couldn't real life just be _this_, all the time? Just Elsa, all soft, and warm and wet from the shower, all _hers_. She bent down to lick away a couple droplets of water from Elsa's neck, chasing the ones that escaped further down to her collarbones, down to her breasts.

She looked up at Elsa as she closed her mouth around her nipple, taking in the way her chest rose and fell heavily, the dark flush across her cheeks. It was kind of dizzying and disorienting, the steam billowing up around them, hot water sluicing off her shoulders, and just, as always…Elsa.

She let go of her nipple with a particularly wet-sounding pop, rising up to kiss her again, letting one hand sneak between the younger woman's legs, trilling her fingers teasingly against her core.

Elsa made this really soft little sound against her lips, opening her mouth wider to take in more of Emma's tongue at the same time she shifted her hips to urge Emma onward.

And Emma was feeling extra nice right now since it was so warm and comfortable and everything felt so good, so she sunk two fingers slowly deep inside Elsa without making her ask twice.

Elsa broke away from the kiss with a long groan as she did, lips skimming across Emma's cheek to rest at her ear, hands continuing to grip at her shoulder blades.

Emma took her slowly, for once not rushing into anything, for once not fearing that this was the last time she'd ever get to be this close to someone. It was a new feeling to her, a strangely comforting one. She lost herself in the feeling of just being inside Elsa, just being as close to her as she possibly could, the younger woman's ragged breath in her ear, fingers clutching at her back, holding her tight. She generally made a point of not giving too much thought to things like heaven, but she was also suddenly pretty sure that if there _was_ such a thing, this was probably pretty close to it.

And all of a sudden Elsa was starting to shudder against her, clinging to her like she was the only thing holding her to the ground, breath coming out in broken gasps and whimpers against Emma's ear.

Then she abruptly threw her head back with a sharp cry, hand flying up to smack against the wall, and ice splintered from where her hand hit all the way up the tiles to the shower head, freezing it solid.

The two of them snapped their attention to the frozen shower head and the sudden lack of water coming out of it (Elsa admittedly a little slower as she struggled to recover from her high) and Emma did her best to bite back what might actually have been a cackle.

The shower head, and the wall supporting it, were completely frozen over, icicles hanging down from the faucet.

"Not again…" Elsa whined dropping her head back against the wall.

Emma laughed, squeezing her hip. "I can't take you anywhere, can I?" she teased.

Elsa shook her head, but smiled back at her sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No it's fine, we can just…"

She was interrupted by a loud _thunk-_ing sound from the wall. Elsa looked at her, wide-eyed. "What was that?" she asked.

Emma stared at the shower head, realizing it was starting to shake minutely and emit this horrible squeaking grinding sound.

"I'm thinking ice wasn't so good for the pipes," she mused, maybe a little needlessly. She grimaced. "Probably going to have to replace those too…"

"Replace…did I break it?"

"…I mean it's…possible…We could just…" Emma broke off suddenly, glancing down at her own hands, an idea striking. Because right, if Elsa could use her magic without even _thinking_, then why not Emma? Maybe she could fix this after all.

She extended her hand slowly toward the shower head, trying to remember all those kind of abusive lessons Regina had given her on how to find her magic, how to channel it.

"Emma what are you doing?" Elsa demanded when she realized Emma was reaching _toward_ the squeaking, _thunk_-ing shower head.

"I'm just…I think maybe I can melt it," she murmured, screwing up her face because it had been a while and she couldn't quite remember what _muscle_ she was supposed to be flexing in order to get in touch with her inner…magic…whatever.

Okay. _There_. Maybe.

"Emma…" Elsa said, and her tone sounded a little like a warning.

"It's alright, I think I've got this." She was feeling that odd little crackling of heat through her veins that usually meant she was onto something.

"Emma," Elsa said again, this time sounding a little more urgent.

"Yeah just, hang on, Elsa, I think it's working." It felt a little warmer, she was pretty sure she actually had this under control for once.

_"Emma_!" Elsa snapped finally, so Emma turned to look at her.

"What?"

_"Fire!" _Elsa cried, pointing at the shower curtain.

Emma wheeled around and- okay, yeah, alright, so the entire shower curtain was completely ablaze. A complete fucking wall of fire.

She stared, backing up what few steps she could, instinctively bringing a hand up to try to shield Elsa from it, panic spiking as she realized she had _no_ idea what to do now. She had just trapped them inside a shower with a roaring barrier of magic fire barring their only exit.

"Holy shit," she breathed, desperately searching for whatever magic muscle it was that should put the fire _out_. There had to be a way to stop it, right? Like, you couldn't just _conjur up a fucking giant wall of fire _without some way to…

All of a sudden she felt icy cold hands grip her arm and yank her back. Elsa stepped forward in front of her, hands extended, and what looked like ropes of snow and ice twisted from them, locking in around the flames.

The combination of the two elements meeting caused both to flare, the fire hissing and spiraling higher up at the ceiling, the ice spraying back in tiny sharpened crystals. Fortunately, Elsa's magic was more concentrated, stronger, and after a moment the ice overtook it, slowly freezing the flames into place.

The end result sort of looked like the kind of abstract ice sculpture you might find at a modern art museum. If you were into that kind of thing.

(It also looked like the kind of thing that was going to cost Emma an arm and a leg in order to fix- the shower curtain burnt nearly to a crisp, and one corner of the ceiling scorched near-black. Not to mention the still-frozen shower head and pipes. Granny was going to kill her.)

Shaking herself out of her stupor, Emma reached over to the iced-over faucet and turned the water pressure off. That…probably should have been what she should have done in the first place.

Then she straightened up, turning to face Elsa, who looked back at her in return. They both kind of stared at each other for a moment.

"And you say you can't take _me_ anywhere," Elsa said finally.

Emma huffed out a laugh, gathering her into her arms, and holding her tight. She was shocked to find the younger woman's entire body approximately the temperature of an iceberg, but she was sort of still reeling from what had just happened, heart thudding in her chest, so she wasn't really willing to let her go.

So, that was enough excitement for one day right? And she could probably skip the coffee this morning. And maybe next morning, and all the mornings for a while. Jesus Christ.

She pulled away from Elsa slightly after a moment because they were both soaking wet and now also freezing on top of it, and part of Emma actually kind of wanted the fire back.

"So, uh," she said as casually as she could, "you want breakfast?"

Elsa just kind of _looked_ at her, but there was a little hint of a smile there too, right at the corner of her mouth.

"That was…" the younger woman started to say.

"A really awesome display of teamwork?" Emma supplied with as much of a swagger as she could come up with.

Elsa snorted out a laugh in spite of herself, shaking her head disbelievingly. "I think maybe we should work on your aim," she suggested. "And your control. And…maybe everything else."

"Nah," Emma said, waving her hand dismissively and beginning to lead them both out of the shower through the small gap between the ice curtain and the wall. She turned back to help Elsa over the ledge, wrapping a towel around her. "Think I'll leave the rest of the magic stuff to you, it's not really my thing anyway."

* * *

><p>Except that apparently, the magic stuff was going to <em>have<em> to be "her thing" if they wanted to defeat the Snow Queen. Because that's how Emma's life worked, and because Belle met them both at the sheriff's station with a translation of some book from Arendelle and told her as much.

It had been kind of a weird morning, even _after_ the wall of ice and fire. They'd had to go through the uncomfortable walk-of-shame home, Elsa in the tiny red dress, both their hair soaking wet and starting to frost a bit in the chilly air. Granny wasn't in yet, so Emma had just left an extremely awkwardly-written note saying she fully intended to return later in the day to see about fixing…the room.

Back at the apartment, Mary-Margaret had already left to take Neal to daycare, but Emma still called her to let her know that she _was_ in fact still alive and would be there at noon to babysit. She anticipated a barrage of questions, scoldings, etcetera, but Mary-Margaret just sounded relieved to hear she was alright, brightly excusing herself to go finish singing the "good morning song" with the other moms at daycare.

Emma wasn't quite sure why she felt a little…put out_…_by Mary-Margaret's cheerful brush-off, but she didn't dwell on it, just went upstairs to finish the shower she'd started at Granny's, this time without Elsa in order to avoid temptation and…destruction of property.

Once she was satisfyingly clean, she located Mary-Margaret's make-up stash under the sink and went to work covering up Elsa's claim on her. Much as it kind of pained her to erase that evidence.

Not long after, she and Elsa made their way over to the sheriff's station, Elsa having changed back into the ever-so-slightly less distracting blue dress. Rather than finding David there, of course, they were intercepted by Belle who informed them that he was off after a potential lead on the Snow Queen, and that she had something important to show them in the book from Arendelle.

So much real life all of a sudden.

So much real life involving _magic_. Candle-lighting, more magical fire…Elsa was nice enough not to make any snide remarks about that. Probably because it was serious this time- with this spell they might _actually_ have a shot at neutralizing the Snow Queen's powers, at taking her into custody, finding out what happened to Anna. And to Elsa.

So Emma tried, _really tried_, to get her magic under control as she and Elsa tested out the spell. And she guessed it wasn't like it was all that surprising that it didn't work, but she still felt pretty deflated when it didn't. She didn't like that she was failing Elsa again, and as sort of funny as the shower thing had been, this was starting to be a major blow to her pride that she didn't seem to be able to do _anything_. Especially when everyone was depending on_ her_ to be able to get her shit together.

By noon, she was almost glad that she had to go babysit Neal. Her mood had quickly gone pretty sour, and it was magic's fault, as it usually was. And it continued to be magic's fault when she arrived at the daycare and proceeded to nearly explode baby Neal's bottle.

Mary-Margaret actually backed away from her when she reached for Neal. And it was just a slight step, and it's not like Emma blamed her or anything, right, it made sense. But it was also the first time she had ever seen her mother look at her with anything less than total adoration, and it cut surprisingly deep. She hadn't expected to be that affected by just a _look_.

She wished she could say she was relieved when David called, interrupting the tense moment between them to inform her that he'd found a trail left by the Snow Queen leading to the clock tower, but at the rate things were going, she honestly couldn't see this day going anywhere other than south.

So…pleasant surprise when she managed to actually get her magical shit together in the clock tower and render the Snow Queen helpless in a pair of magical fire handcuffs. She stared, mostly completely stunned at how easy that had been, while Elsa threw her arms around her in excitement, and David and Killian moved in to drag the Snow Queen down to the station.

Elsa must have been caught up in the moment because she continued to hold tight to her, even as Killian passed with an odd, contorted look on his face as he escorted the Snow Queen to the stairs. It caused an unwelcome pang of guilt to rise up in Emma and she shifted her gaze uncomfortably away from him, finding herself instead caught in the glinting gaze of the Snow Queen as she passed by. That look chilled her to the fucking bone, erasing all trace of heat from the magic in her veins, and she held Elsa tighter.

Once David, Killian, and the Snow Queen had disappeared down the stairs, Emma pulled back from Elsa a little, lifting her hand up to cup the younger woman's cheek.

"You ready for this?" she asked carefully.

She was surprised to find that Elsa's eyes were strangely alight, that she looked…_excited_, rather than anxious, the way Emma felt.

The younger woman nodded. "I am," she answered. "We can actually get some real answers now, find out what happened to my sister…finally put an end to this whole nightmare."

And maybe it was just left-over bruised feelings from the way Mary-Margaret had shied away from her just moments ago, but Emma felt herself cringe inwardly at that.

"Nightmare?" she heard herself ask before she could stop it.

Elsa's face paled and Emma immediately back-tracked, feeling stupid.

"I mean-" she started.

"No, Emma," Elsa interrupted, taking her hands in hers, gripping firmly. "I didn't mean _nightmare_, not with you, _never_ with you. You've been _everything_ to me, you know that…"

"No I know," Emma cut through her, stepping out of her hold awkwardly. "I don't know why I said that, of course this has been a nightmare for you, not knowing where you are, or where your sister is. I just, I guess I forgot that you're not…"

…_Mine, _she wanted to say but thankfully stopped herself before she did. She realized she was edging toward the stair case, trying to fumble her way out of this one without looking as self-centered and clingy as she realized she must have seemed.

"Emma wait," Elsa said gently, reaching out to take her arm.

"It's fine, Elsa," she cut her off softly. She sighed and turned back to her, cupping the younger woman's cheek again. "Let's just…go talk to the Snow Queen, alright, find out what she knows. The sooner we figure out this part, the sooner we can figure out…everything else. Right?" She offered as much of a smile as she could muster.

Jesus but she was a fucking mess. How could she have forgotten that Elsa didn't really belong here, that her world didn't just…_revolve _around Emma the way Emma's was starting to revolve around her.

But Elsa nodded into her hand, turning her head to press a careful kiss to her palm, and the two of them descended the stairs, Emma feeling cold all the way to the pit of her stomach.

* * *

><p>First things first, Emma was going to go ahead and say she really hated the way Ingrid looked at Elsa, and not for the reason she expected. She had expected sneering, she had expected smirking, she had expected taunting…she hadn't thought to expect tenderness. Certainly not sincerity.<p>

It seemed to infuriate Elsa more than it did Emma, surprisingly enough, and the two of them decided maybe it'd be best if Emma handled the interrogation bit for now while Elsa went back to the clock tower with David and Killian to take a closer look at the mirror Ingrid had summoned there.

Left alone with the intimidating statuesque beauty that was Ingrid, Emma suddenly realized her mind was an uncomfortable jumble of emotions, few of which she could identify the source of. The only one that seemed even slightly familiar was her anger at Ingrid for whatever she'd done in the past to hurt Elsa, and Anna, and herself. So she latched onto that anger and held fast, because she felt suddenly lost in front of this woman.

Ingrid regarded her carefully, like she could tell Emma was grappling with something, and waited politely for Emma to sort herself out. It made Emma angrier, that look, because there was something about it that was so distinctly…_Elsa_, and Emma didn't ever want to associate the two of them with one another. She knew they were related, but she hated seeing it so plainly like this.

So she comforted herself by wrapping more anger around herself, and began questioning her, focusing on the parts of Ingrid that _weren't_ Elsa. It was hard, because they both had that quiet regality to them, a similar softness to the way they spoke, even a certain disarming hesitance. But where Elsa was sweet and open, Ingrid was cold and refined- cold even when the way she looked at Emma was gentle.

The truth was, Emma couldn't for the life of her get a good read on this woman. And every time she said Emma's name, there was a startling part of Emma that wanted to _not_ hate her. Every time that happened, she felt like she was desperately scrambling to hold onto her anger, even though realistically, she knew she had no reason to feel anything else.

"So?" Ingrid asked finally, snapping Emma back to attention. "What would you like to talk about?"

Emma stared at her, kind of incredulous. What _didn't_ she want to talk about? She wanted to know about their past, about the memories Ingrid was keeping from her. She wanted to know why Ingrid was so calm right now. She wanted to know why her head was fucking _reeling_ from how confused she was.

"Elsa's sister," she forced herself to say. "Where is she?"

Ingrid smiled patiently, casting her gaze around the interrogation room. "Not here, I'm afraid."

Emma felt her anger flare and clung to it. "Yeah, I can see that," she snapped. "What happened to her?"

"Why so interested?" Ingrid asked, studying her critically. "All she's ever done is hurt Elsa, she locked her in that urn."

"Sure, according you," Emma returned. "Elsa says her sister would never do that. Think I'm gonna go ahead and trust Elsa before I trust anything _you_ have to say."

Ingrid's smile returned slowly. Kind of lazily. "The two of you seem close," she observed.

Emma felt her hackles raise, that protective thing in her flaring up, crackling to the point that she felt like it had mingled with her magic for a split second. She knew she was being baited, drawn away from the question she had asked, but she was too revved up to back down. "Elsa's my friend," she growled shortly.

"Mm," Ingrid hummed noncommittally. She looked out through the window of the door, as if she could still see Elsa there. "She looks at you the way she used to look at me," she said quietly, angling her head back at Emma with another small smile. "She…clings to you…the way she used to cling to me."

Emma felt her spine tighten defensively and she sat up straighter. "What exactly are you trying to say?" she demanded.

"Nothing I'm sure you haven't suspected already."

Emma didn't even have a name for the mix of feelings that induced. Jealousy, sickness, anger…even some relief that she'd been right after all.

"She's your niece," she said, because for some reason stating the obvious seemed important, and just about the only thing she could do.

Ingrid tilted her head, this very small glimmer of sadness surfacing in her eyes. Emma hated that sadness. Ingrid had no right to feel sadness, not after she'd stolen Elsa and Emma's memories from them, not when she was threatening the lives of everyone in Storybrooke.

"I would think you of all people would understand that love rarely works the way we're told it's supposed to, Emma," the Snow Queen said finally.

Emma scoffed, crossing her hands over her chest. "Don't," she warned. "Don't you dare sit there and tell me you _loved_ Elsa…"

"I _do_ love Elsa," Ingrid told her. "_And_ you. And believe it or not the two of you loved me once too."

Emma huffed incredulously at her. "You…_lured_ Elsa out into the middle of the woods so you could chain her up and send a giant ice monster after me. Hate to break it to you, Queenie, but that's not _love_, that's…"

"I never would have allowed things to get out of hand, Emma, you were never in any real danger," Ingrid interrupted. She paused. "As for Elsa…I just wanted to see her again. I missed her."

"So ask her to go get coffee with you sometime, don't _chain her up_…"

"You're well aware it's not that simple."

Ingrid hesitated, seeming to gather her thoughts. "Elsa was…_is_…everything to me," she said carefully. "She was the only person I had ever met with powers like mine. She's a rare person in this world, and not just because of her powers, but because of who she is. Her kindness, her vulnerability, and also her strength…they coexist in her in a way that's…difficult to find. She was fearful of herself, yes, but she wasn't embittered by that fear. She was still hopeful. She made _me_ hopeful, for once in my life. We completed each other."

"Sure, you completed each other so well you stole all her memories of you," Emma drawled. "Sounds like love to me."

"You can blame her sister for that, I've told you already," Ingrid said, and despite the softness of her voice, there was a sharp pinpoint of anger in her tone. "What happened was…regrettable, but necessary. And in a way, a blessing, because it led me to you."

Emma felt her shoulders tighten. "You gonna tell me I also completed you?" she asked in a careful growl. "Because I gotta tell you, if that's where this is going…"

"You were thirteen, Emma," Ingrid interrupted patiently. "And while I have been called a monster countless times in my life, I do have _some_ limits."

"But not limits that extend to your niece."

Ingrid regarded her steadily. "You seem to be under the impression that it was one-sided," she noted.

"Do you blame me?" Emma asked, leaning back. "You've done nothing but manipulate both Elsa and me for a long time now, of course I think it was one-sided."

Ingrid sighed, casting her eyes down. "I'm sorry to hear that's what you think of me, Emma," she said, sounding genuinely hurt. It made Emma's hold on her anger slip a notch, in spite of her best efforts.

Ingrid looked back up at her for a moment, then reached somewhere into the folds of that dress, producing a small purple stone which she held out to Emma.

Emma recoiled away from it like Ingrid had tried to hand her a scorpion. "The hell's that?" she demanded.

"Proof," Ingrid said evenly. "I know it's tempting…_easy_…to think of me as a villain, and Elsa as a helpless innocent, but things are _never_ that simple, Emma. These are my memories of Elsa, a treasured few. You can have them. See that I'm telling the truth. I've never lied to you, Emma, I never would."

"Then why not just give me _my_ memories back?"

"Because you aren't ready," Ingrid told her simply. "You'll just have to trust me on that."

Emma meant to say something scathing, but she just set her jaw instead, looking pointedly away from Ingrid, away from that stupid purple rock. She didn't like that the words "trust me" made her actually _want_ to trust her, instead of filling her with disgust the way they should have.

Ingrid looked over at her, tilting her head curiously as she took in Emma's small slip in her control. She offered a small, sad smile. "It's confusing, isn't it," she said.

"What is?" Emma growled.

Ingrid's mouth twitched at the corner sympathetically. "What you're feeling right now," she answered. "The fatal flaw with memory magic, is that it does indeed erase a memory, fully and completely from a person's mind. But it can never get rid of the _feeling_ that was attached to that memory. Why do you think Elsa is always so quick to defend me? Why do you think she hesitates every time she sees me? You've seen how powerful she can be, there's nothing to stop her from at least _trying_ to fight me, except for the fact that she is overwhelmed each time she sees me, with the feeling that she knows me, and that she loves me. As are you. You in particular are incapable of doing anything, because you've _missed me_ for over _seventeen years_, you've just never known that it was me who you missed."

"I don't _miss_ you," Emma snapped, unable to believe what she was hearing, unable to put a stop to the way her mind was spinning even more. "You mean _nothing_ to me. The only reason you're even in my life right now is so I can make sure you can't hurt anyone, or perform your shattered-whatever-the-hell on the people I care about. The people I _actually_ care about."

Ingrid watched her, face unreadable. And Emma just couldn't help but think it: Elsa did that sometimes, that unreadable thing. That deliberate, taking her time to figure out what she was going to say and do next. That careful precision.

But Elsa was softer when she did it. She was careful and precise, but it was because she _cared_, not because she was manipulating. Elsa wasn't Ingrid. They were nothing alike.

"I'd like some water," Ingrid said finally, breaking the silence.

Emma stared at her. "You'd like some _water_?" she echoed incredulously. "That's all you have to say to me?"

"No, Emma, I have quite a bit more to say to you, and given that, I would greatly appreciate a glass of water before I begin. Please."

Emma exhaled slowly, trying to wrestle control over her anger, because where it had once been a grounding comfort, it was now becoming just as muddled and distracting as the rest of the thoughts and feelings zipping through her. On top of that, she was starting to feel the results of that anger crackling in her veins, like her magic was just _begging_ for an excuse to burst free.

She rolled out of the chair to her feet, making her way to the door of the interrogation room with a conscious effort to keep from clenching her fists.

"One water coming right up," she muttered, "as you fucking wish, Your Majesty."

* * *

><p>Emma didn't dwell on the past, because all that ever did was make her feel like she was drowning. But she'd just driven a long ways up a mountain into the woods at a foolish and near-deadly 90 miles an hour, so as she sat in her car looking down at the town below her, she found she had very few defenses left.<p>

She figured it would have been enough to focus on just _one_ part of it- what the Snow Queen had said to her about her family once she'd brought her the requested glass of water, the sudden doubt she felt at the supposed steadfastness of their love, the hole she'd blown through the sheriff's station when her magic finally decided it could no longer handle the tumult of emotions in her system, the street lamp her magic had managed to drop almost killing her father, the way Mary-Margaret had screeched "Emma!" like she hardly recognized her, Killian's assumption that it was "that monster" who had caused the damage.

Any one of those individual things would have been just plenty to send her into a frenzy of panic in her heightened state right now. Instead, her mind chose to focus on all of them, all at once, like some kind of fucked up spinning tapestry of crazy, of complete and utter lack of control.

Emma curled into herself, pressing her hands to either side of her head in order to try to squeeze the flood of images out of her brain. David, Henry, Killian, Elsa, the explosion of her power…If anything, the pressure just filed the images down individually into sharper focus and her magic sparked rebelliously in response, frying the car radio.

She jumped at the feeling of it shooting through her, zapping her almost painfully liked she'd just been shocked. As hard as she tried, she couldn't stop the tightening of her throat or the tears gathering in her eyes and she whimpered quietly. She hadn't felt this lonely since before she came to Storybrooke, since before she'd met Henry, and then at least she'd had the armor of someone who had never known anything _but_ loneliness, so it didn't hurt as much.

Now everything hurt, and that rush of magic through her veins wasn't _stopping_. She'd felt it clanging painfully through her body for hours now, and she felt sick from it, sick from the fear that there was no escaping it.

More than anything else though- and this wasn't a feeling she was accustomed to- she just wished there was someone there to hold her. Someone who would allow her to come apart and be weak for once and cry. And maybe what surprised here even more was that the person she most wanted it to be wasn't Elsa, or even Henry.

The person she wanted to be here more than anything was her mom.

Like the fucking stupid kid she really was, she just wanted her mom, and she wanted it all to stop. But at the end of the day when her powers were out of control, Mary-Margaret had looked at her exactly the way the Snow Queen had foretold, like a monster.

So Emma took the next best thing she had to family and curled around herself, hugging her knees to her chest, pressing them up under her chin. She'd survived 28 years on her own, no mother, no father, no Henry, no Elsa. She could do it again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_So. Much. Angst. That's the price you pay for demanding a part 3 to the smutty-fluffy interlude._

_P.S., you guys, just really want to apologize for how long it took to get this chapter up, and also for my really short responses to those of you who reviewed this last time around- I was covering other people's shifts at work this week so I had basically zero time to be a person at all, let alone a writer. But now that that's all over, I should be able to update this story much more frequently. Thanks for sticking with me, my lovely readers._


	10. Listen (4x08 deleted scenes)

**A/N:**_ Deleted scenes for 4x08 which was the two-part episode, so it's kind of a lengthy chapter...the first two sections take place right before the beginning of Part 1, the last two take place right after the end of Part 2._

* * *

><p>"You don't have to be alone," Ingrid told her, seated beside her in the passenger seat of the yellow bug, looking out over Storybrooke with her.<p>

Damn it, thought Emma. Another stupid dream.

She hated dreams, always had. Mostly because hers were never particularly good ones- usually they involved chasing and hiding and fighting and were more physically exhausting than dreams should be.

That, or they were about talking woodland critters. Which, at one point, she'd thought was bizarre. Now that she knew she was the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, those dreams sort of made more sense, she guessed.

The worst kind of dreams were the realistic ones, though. Like this one. Where it really seemed like Ingrid was sitting next to her. Inside her car. Talking to her.

"I'm not alone," she told dream-Ingrid, leaning her head back against the headrest and looking at her. "Chip 'n Dale'll be here real soon to sing to me. You can join in if you want. My ex-flying-monkey-fiance can do back-up vocals."

Dream-Ingrid gazed at her, lips pulling up very slightly at the corners. "You and I used to sing together all the time," she said. "You used to force me to listen to the most horrible music."

"'I Like Big Butts and I Cannot Lie'," Emma agreed sagely. "Uhmmm…Baby Got Back."

Ingrid laughed and it sounded like Elsa, only sadder. At least it was familiar.

"Yes you took particular joy in making me sing that," Ingrid chuckled. She reached out hesitantly, then stroked her fingers through Emma's hair. If it hadn't been a dream, Emma would have hit her. But even her dream self was tired from the magic still coursing through her, so she let her do it, let the dream play out how it was going to. Sometimes that made it go away faster.

"I'll bet you remember singing it," Ingrid went on, fingers still stroking through her hair. And it wasn't _soothing_. It _wasn't_. "I'll bet you remember dancing around the house to it, laughing." Ingrid tucked a strand of Emma's hair behind her ear and slipped her hand down to Emma's cheek. "But not me," she said softly. "You don't remember a thing about me, do you? And I know that makes the memory emptier, when it's just you."

Emma shrugged. "I'm used to 'just me'," she said. "I'm good at 'just me'."

"But it was never supposed to _be_ just you," Ingrid told her sadly, stroking her cheek with her thumb.

"'Just me' is stronger than she looks. Being alone is a good way to toughen up. Kept me safe from…weakness, and whatever."

Ingrid frowned, pausing the stroking of her thumb briefly. "It isn't weakness to want to be loved by someone, Emma," she said. "Loneliness is never what I intended for you. And it never has to be again, if you would just learn to accept what you are."

Emma glanced out the window to see if there was a dream monster of some kind she could go fight instead. Or like a scary clown or something. But there wasn't, so she played along.

"Okay," she said. "Then what am I?"

"You're remarkable," Ingrid told her with a small smile. "And no one as remarkable as you should ever have to be alone. I'm sorry that you have to suffer like this for now, but in time, it will make you see. Those people who call themselves your family, they've driven you here. I never intended to hurt you when we spoke today, but I hope that from the pain, you'll be able to finally see the world for what it really is."

"And…what is the world?"

"It's yours," Ingrid answered, and Emma felt a chill go up her spine. "And it's mine. And it's Elsa's. The world isn't meant for people like them, the people who claim to be your family. It's for us. And once it's ours, they won't be able control us anymore. They won't be able to isolate us anymore. The three of us will never be alone again."

Emma frowned, closing her eyes. She didn't like this dream at all. She'd rather it was another one of those chase dreams even though those always made her tired when she woke up. She'd even take the singing chipmunks. Hell, she'd take being chaseed _by_ the singing chipmunks.

But she liked the way Ingrid's hand felt on her face at least, she even liked the silly dream promise of not being alone, so she focused on that.

"If what you've been saying his whole time is true," she reasoned slowly, "then _you_ left me alone in the first place. Just like they did."

"I never left you, sweet girl," Ingrid corrected gently. "You left me. Because you were still afraid of what you were. But I never left you. Not like them."

"We had this conversation in real life already," Emma groaned, annoyed with her dream for being redundant. "They left me because they didn't have a choice. But now that they've found me…"

"They didn't find you," Ingrid cut through her, voice suddenly icy. "_You_ found _them_ remember, not the other way around. When your family needed you most, you were there to save them. Protect them. Love them. And now? When the tables are turned and you need _them_ to be here for _you_? They're not here. _I_ am. When you were a child and you needed them, they weren't there. But _I_ was. _I_ have _never_ stopped looking for you. And I've _never_ stopped looking for Elsa either. What the three of us have is _far_ beyond anything you could ever _hope_ to have with your 'family.' So far beyond."

Emma tried to think of something to say, not liking that dream-Ingrid was as articulate and precise real Ingrid. And maybe equally as crazy, if a little nicer. When she failed to come up with anything to say, Ingrid continued, more gently.

"I wish so much that you would come to your senses on your own, realize the fallacy of their love, the strength of mine," she said with a sigh. She resumed the stroking of her thumb against Emma's cheek. "Fortunately, the curse will illuminate things for you, make you see more clearly. It won't be long now. I promise you, sweet girl, you won't have to suffer much longer. And then once the smoke has cleared, I'll never let anything hurt you again."

Emma realized she was leaning her face into Ingrid's hand and wasn't quite sure how to stop it.

"You're a lot nicer when you're a dream," she murmured.

Ingrid raised an eyebrow. "You're a lot more receptive when you think you're asleep," she returned.

"I _am_ asleep, that's why you're in my car and I haven't punched you yet."

Ingrid smiled sadly, returning to stroking her fingers through her hair. "You're exhausted, Emma," she said. "Your magic's taken quite a toll on you. You should get some rest."

Emma frowned, looking at her carefully. This was all starting to get very…what was that word? When it was like a thing within a thing?

"I'll be back in the morning to come check on you," Ingrid said to her, tracing her fingers down to her jaw, and then down further, gingerly, to her neck where Emma had been grazed by the icicle before she'd captured Ingrid with the spell. "Sleep for now. Let your body recharge itself. Soon, I promise you, everything will be alright."

Emma was pretty sure she'd heard _that_ before and grumbled a little bit.

Ingrid just offered that soft smile again that looked too much like Elsa's, and leaned forward, pressing her lips to Emma's forehead. Then she bent her head down to kiss Emma's cheek. She hesitated a moment, briefly seeming almost uncertain, before leaning in again and brushing her lips softly against Emma's mouth.

And Emma didn't _like it_, she wasn't interested in any kind of anything with villainous crazy women hell-bent on destroying her town. But it was just a dream anyway, and it was kind of nice to be comforted, and touched, especially by dream-Ingrid who, unlike real Ingrid, was warmer, kinder. She was warm and kind the way Mary-Margaret could be, but her lips were cold and they tasted just ever so slightly like Elsa.

And she was _here_ which was more comfort than anything. Emma didn't know why her dream-mind decided to have comfort come to her in the form of _Ingrid_ of all people, but at least it was _something, _and so much less painful than being alone. So Emma didn't put up a fight, just let the dream do what it would, it was always better to just let it do what it was going to do, you couldn't reason with dreams, they were all bullshit anyway.

"Sleep," Ingrid instructed gently once she pulled away.

"I _am_," Emma grumbled, leaning back against the door and closing her eyes.

And _finally._ _There_ were the talking woodland critters. Much better.

* * *

><p>Of course, when she woke up in the morning she realized it wasn't a fucking dream, was it, she was just so delirious from exhaustion she'd made that assumption.<p>

Because that was her fucking life. Her life was a long, convoluted conversation with an insane Snow Queen that ended in-

_Fuck._

Cursing as her magic jolted through her again, she leapt out of the car, shaking her hands as if that would shake the magic, and her not-dream out of her. She braced her arms against the door of the bug, taking a steadying breath because she was sort of starting to think she was going crazy and it needed to stop _now_.

"Mom?" she heard Henry's voice call distantly to her through the woods.

Her entire body locked as magic lanced through her again with enough strength she was surprised it hadn't ripped right through her skin.

She heard Henry's footsteps approaching her, close, far too close to be safe for him. She braced herself, because she knew him, knew he was there to try to bring her home, and she couldn't go home, not while she was like this, not while she was a danger to everyone she came across.

She had to get rid of it, she realized suddenly as it sparked through her once more. That realization almost made her feel sicker, which was weird because she'd never thought of herself as all that attached to her magic. She wasn't sure why the thought of getting rid of it altogether felt just as alarming as the thought of getting rid of one of her limbs.

But then Henry's voice once more, and another spark of magic, and she found herself resolute. It had to go. It _had_ to.

* * *

><p>Elsa rode back to the Charmings' apartment with her in the yellow bug while everyone else decided to pile into David's car. Emma guessed they would probably take Killian home too once he finished doing…whatever the hell he was doing inside the mansion. She hadn't really thought to ask him- she'd been a little too distracted trying to act like he hadn't just charged into the mansion after Elsa talked her off a metaphorical magic ledge, and kissed her right in front of the younger woman like the two of them were still together.<p>

She'd meant to explain to Elsa that it didn't mean anything, that she hadn't encouraged it, hadn't even responded to it, nothing at all- but before she could, she'd been swept up in the arms of David, Mary-Margaret, and Henry just outside.

And she wasn't sure what had changed in the past day and a half or so, but neither of her parents seemed prepared to let her go any time soon, and Mary-Margaret's unexpected utterance of "Just please don't change" was almost enough to drive her to tears.

She managed to keep the tears contained, because she'd already shed plenty of those inside the mansion in front of Elsa already, but the feeling it brought on, being held by her parents, having them not be afraid of her, warmed her to her bones. Ingrid was wrong. Her parents _had_ found her. They'd found her, and they were here, and they loved her, and that made her giddy enough to set off fireworks with her magic, because she wanted anyone and everyone who _could_ to see that she wasn't alone.

Of course, leave it to Ingrid to destroy the whole thing by somehow managing to conjure magic ribbons onto her and Elsa's wrists, and all of a sudden the magic she'd had that wonderful, perfect control over for mere _moments_ was sucked away, leaving only a dull, muted echo behind.

The feeling was strange to Emma; Elsa seemed more uneasy. The younger woman had never _been_ without control over her magic, and seeing her looking kind of on edge, Emma had offered to take her home while her parents waited for Killian.

They drove in silence, Emma just _barely_ aware of the now constant hum of magic flowing through her. Ten minutes of it completely under her control, only to have it siphoned away from her by the ribbon on her wrist, by Ingrid.

That ten minutes she'd had it though, she'd fucking _had _it. Magic. Control. And it was _hers_. And it was incredible. And it was because of Elsa.

When they reached the park, she pulled the car over to the side of the road and cut the engine with a sigh. She looked over at Elsa who was already looking back at her questioningly, but in that sort of careful, neutral way she did sometimes when she wasn't sure whether or not she needed to be on the defensive.

"You're not about to suggest we go ice skating again, are you?" the younger woman asked when she didn't say anything.

Emma mustered up a smile and shook her head. "No, I just…" She exhaled forcefully. "Elsa, I'm sorry," she said.

Elsa studied her silently for a moment. "For what?" she asked.

"Right now? Just about everything," Emma told her. "But if you want a list…I'm sorry I ran off, I'm sorry I abandoned you, I'm sorry I'm a fucking coward, I'm sorry I put you in danger, I'm sorry I made you feel like you had to put _yourself_ in danger for _me_, I'm sorry about the ribbons, I'm sorry that Killian…_kissed_ me…in front of you…after all that, of all fucking things to have happen…"

"I'd hardly call that a kiss."

Emma broke off, searching Elsa's eyes, because that wasn't really the part she'd expected Elsa to react to first.

"…I mean when he-" she began.

"I saw what he did," Elsa lilted. "And I'd hardly count that as a kiss." She angled her head carelessly. "After two hundred years of being alive, if that's what he calls a kiss, then I'd be awfully embarrassed to be him. I noticed you didn't exactly return it."

Emma felt herself smiling a very tiny bit. "I'm sorry anyway," she said quietly. "I really did break it off with him like I told you, I just never told him about _us_, or anything…I think he was just…happy I was okay and got caught up in the moment or…"

"Emma," Elsa interrupted firmly. She slid her hand over Emma's, tangling their fingers together. "Stop apologizing. It wasn't your fault, I know that. Just…confirm for me that it was as lousy of a kiss as it looked."

Emma smiled fully this time, squeezing her hand. "Yeah, it was a pretty lousy kiss," she confirmed. She nudged Elsa's shoulder. "Pretty sure I know someone who does it better."

And Elsa graced her with Emma's favorite lopsided smile. "Wow, you really _are_ Prince Charming's daughter," the younger woman drawled, leaning in, eyes dipping to her mouth.

"Oh," Emma said, feigning surprise and tilting away the last second. "Oh, you thought I was talking about _you_…Uh, gosh, this is awkward…see, I was actually…talking about Regina…"

Elsa swatted her shoulder and pulled her in, kissing her firmly to shut her up. And it was…surprisingly possessive, the way she kissed her. Like, really fucking sexily possessive. Emma didn't quite manage to contain her moan as Elsa sucked her lower lip between her teeth, tugging gently before she finally let it go and pulled back just far enough to be able to look at her.

Emma stared back, cocking her head thoughtfully. "Huh. Guess I _was_ talking about you."

Elsa breathed out a laugh. "Yes you definitely were," she agreed. She leaned her forehead against Emma's, closing her eyes for a moment, sighing deeply.

"You're not allowed to do that again, you know," the young queen said after a time, voice soft. She pulled back, hands toying absently at the lapels of Emma's jacket. "That running away thing. Or the being scared thing. Or- that is, you're allowed to be scared," she amended, "but if you are, you're only allowed to run _toward_ me, not away from me. That way I can protect you. Or…hold your hand while magic explodes around us, whichever it ends up being."

Emma turned her grimace into what she hoped looked like a real smile, feeling her stomach tangle with guilt as she remembered the way Elsa had talked her out of giving up her magic, the way she so easily could have been killed by Emma's errant powers in that room.

"Emma," Elsa said to get her attention back to the present. She put her hands on either side of Emma's face, regarding her sternly. "Look at me and say it. You're not allowed…"

"I'm not allowed to do that running away thing," Emma repeated with a slight eyeroll that was more for show than anything else. "And if I do run, it has to be toward you, not away from you. There. Happy, Your Majesty?"

Elsa let go of her face, a brief thoughtful expression crossing over her before she shifted down in her seat and leaned her head against Emma's shoulder. "Yes that will do for now, peasant, thank you," she said.

Emma smothered a smile. "Elsa I'm not a peasant, remember?"

"Oh right. Well then that will do for now, underling, thank you."

Emma snorted. "Wow. That's somehow _way_ more degrading than 'peasant.'"

"Well it serves you right for running away from your queen and allowing a pirate anywhere near you. You're lucky your town doesn't have a stockade or that's where you'd be spending the night."

Emma kissed the top of her head. "You get very regal when you're mad at me," she noted.

Elsa slipped their hands together again, weaving their fingers together. "I'm not mad at you," she said carefully. "I'm just feeling a little…territorial."

Emma flushed, kind of feeling warm all over because of that and grinned really stupidly, glad that Elsa couldn't see it.

"So you ready to go home?" she asked.

Elsa hesitated, sitting up and looking at her. That whole regal air about her had completely vanished, and she looked kind of shy again.

Although, to be honest…almost a little _too_ shy. Like she'd definitely caught onto the fact that Emma found that particularly irresistible and was totally doing it on purpose.

"_Or_…we could go to Granny's?" the younger woman suggested hesitantly and then bit her lip, and there was _no way_ that wasn't an evil ploy to get into Emma's pants.

And Emma was tempted. _More_ than tempted. She was basically already about half way out of her jeans at the thought.

But also…she was kind of thinking about the scorched bathroom ceiling at Granny's, and the frozen shower curtain of fire, and the definitely warped wood flooring, and the iced-over pipes, and the awkwardly-written letter she'd left for Granny on the dresser.

"I'm like ninety-five percent sure that Granny won't let us back in there until I rebuild her entire establishment by hand," Emma mused thoughtfully.

So of course Elsa fucking straight up _pouted_ at that, and glanced away looking nothing short of wounded, crossing her arms over her chest with a sigh.

Manipulation…was a surprisingly appealing color on her, enough to make Emma consider the logistics of pulling her into her lap and just fucking her in the car. On second thought though, her head already almost touched the ceiling, car sex in the bug was just a concussion waiting to happen.

"…My parents still have to wait for Killian and take him home," she reasoned, feeling kind of like a teenager sneaking around. "Then they'll have to drop off Henry with Regina, and Regina will want to know what all happened, and she'll probably find some reason to snipe at them for a while…we've probably got an hour before anyone's home."

Elsa's eyes immediately brightened and her face flushed really adorably before she quickly regained her composure and looked straight ahead of her, chin lifted airily.

"Well? Onward then, underling," she ordered. "What are you waiting for?"

Emma rolled her eyes with a snort, but started up the car, peeling back onto the road fast enough that the tires screeched, and- basically it was a good fucking thing she was the sheriff or the speed at which she gunned for home would have made for one hell of a fine.

* * *

><p>Something was going on with Elsa, that much became clear as soon as they got upstairs and into Emma's room. Emma immediately started in kissing her and trying to figure out exactly how she was supposed to get Elsa out of her dress, but Elsa slipped out of her grasp, surprising her by pressing her cold fingers hard against her sternum and pushing her down onto the bed.<p>

Emma sat up, momentarily taken off guard by her sudden new location before she gathered herself and laughed, reaching forward to pull Elsa down with her.

She wasn't quite sure what to do when, rather than letting her, Elsa swatted her hands away, and pushed her back down again.

Emma blinked in surprise, looking up at the younger woman standing before her. Elsa just gazed back, fucking pinning her with those eyes, and lifted her eyebrow expectantly.

And Emma was…feeling kind of lost here. Not really sure what else to do, she sat forward and reached uncertainly for Elsa again, only to have the younger woman slap her hands away once more, angling her head at her, looking once again like she was expecting something.

And Emma had never been good at being obedient. Ever. But she was even _less _good at it when she had no idea what it was that Elsa wanted from her, so this just seemed unfair.

Frustrated by whatever the hell this was, she frowned, making one last attempt to reach forward. She paused halfway though when Elsa lifted an eyebrow again, looking incredibly displeased. Emma felt heat rush to the back of her neck, and elsewhere, as confusion, fucking _annoyance_, and arousal flared in her at Elsa's look.

"Els-" she began.

"Sh," Elsa cut her off shortly. "Stop. I want you to just listen to me."

Emma huffed irritably. "I _would_- you're not _saying_ anything-"

"Emma," Elsa interrupted, voice soft as always but surprisingly commanding. "_Listen_ to me." She stepped forward so she was standing between Emma's legs on the bed, and Emma, glad for her closeness finally, unthinkingly reached out and began gathering the skirt of her dress in her fists, pushing it up her thighs.

Elsa snatched her wrists, yanking them away from the dress and holding them tightly in her hands, slender fingers surprisingly strong. Gripping them firmly, she bent down, slowly ghosting her lips just a breath away from Emma's, pulling just out of reach with a hiss when Emma tried to press in and kiss her.

"_Els-" _Emma heard herself exclaim sharply in irritation when the younger woman pulled away. She hadn't meant to, but this was getting _beyond_ frustrating that Elsa wasn't letting her touch her.

She started trying to yank her wrists free, but Elsa just gripped them tighter, ordering, "Emma, _stop_. Stop," against her mouth.

So Emma _did_ stop even though she didn't want to, because that was at least a directive she could follow, but she glared up at Elsa, starting to feel suddenly hostile. She didn't _like_ being told what to do, and she liked it even less that after the past couple days she'd just been through, Elsa was making this _difficult_ instead of just doing what they were both fucking here to do anyway.

"Just listen to me," Elsa murmured again, loosening her grip on Emma's wrists. She leaned in again to brush her lips against Emma's, but jerked back warningly when Emma tilted her head to meet her.

She shook her head. "_Listen_, Emma," she breathed, and tried again, and Emma still had no fucking idea what she was supposed to be _listening_ to, so she stilled and let Elsa just do…whatever the fuck she was doing.

And that seemed to be the right thing to do because the younger woman flicked her tongue out, tracing it teasingly across her upper lip, and then down to her lower. It tickled, and it also felt really fucking good, and Emma wanted _more_ of that, but every time she'd moved even an inch thus far had resulted in Elsa pushing her away. So she endured it, unmovingly, and crankily.

Elsa pulled away after a moment, nodding approvingly at her stillness, and then placed her hand on Emma's chest, pushing her down gently onto the bed so Emma was propped up on her elbows. "Listen," Elsa repeated quietly.

And Emma still didn't get it. Not really. But it at least seemed clear that Elsa meant for her to stay down, so she did that, impatiently clutching at the sheets beneath her.

Elsa watched her for a short moment to see if she was going to move again, but finally seemed to decide that Emma was in fact _listening_ to her, or whatever, and straightened to a standing position with a small smile. Then very slowly, she began to peel out of her dress.

And it was at least really gratifying to see that Elsa was blushing while she did it- like she may have been playing at being in charge, but Emma could tell this wasn't supposed to be like Elsa's foray into dominance or something. This was about something else, something that maybe didn't have anything to do with sex at all.

Interest suddenly piqued, Emma found it a little easier to ease back into the mattress on her elbows, watching Elsa undress. She let herself take in the details of what the younger woman was doing, surprised to find the dress incredibly intricate, with discreet fastenings hidden away that Emma had never noticed before.

Elsa's fingers moved deftly over them, until finally, after taking apart what had to be at least eight pieces to that dress, she was left with just the bare bones of it. With one last flick of her finger, that slipped to the floor too, and finally Elsa was completely bare before her.

She crossed one arm shyly over herself, subtly enough that she probably wasn't even aware she'd done it, and that small break in her confidence gave Emma all the permission she needed to sit forward again and grab hold of Elsa's waist, and pull her down on the bed with her.

Except that's not at all what happened, because the _second_ she started to sit up just the tiniest bit, Elsa's gaze hardened warningly, and Emma sank back down on her elbows with a barely contained huff of irritation.

Seeming pleased with her obedience, Elsa sauntered forward so her thighs were against the edge of the bed, slipping one finger under Emma's chin and leaning in to kiss her. And Emma wasn't _that_ slow, she knew what she was expected to do, so she forced down her natural inclination to take control of the kiss and just followed Elsa's lead, irritated that _certain_ parts of her body at least were actually really enjoying this arrangement.

At last, she felt Elsa press up with the finger she had under her chin, guiding her up to a sitting position. And like, Emma had been trying to do that since the very beginning so at this point she was kind of reluctant to obey just based on principle, but…right, she was supposed to be _listening_. Fine. She sat up, and made a very conscious effort to keep her hands on the bed at her sides.

Thankfully, she was rewarded with Elsa finally _finally_ crawling onto her lap, knees on either side of her hips, hovering slightly above her before she sank her full weight down on top of her, knees clenching at her sides. And Emma guessed she'd been too preoccupied with how irritated she was to realize how turned on she was actually getting, but all of a sudden she realized just how fucking _grateful_ she was to have Elsa touching her and sighed in pleasure as the younger woman's weight settled on her lap.

And it was kind of funny too because Elsa was already rocking against her a little bit, mouth pressed against her ear, breath hot and heavy against it. Like, she definitely wouldn't be able to keep up this little control thing she had going for very long. Emma would just have to wait her out a little bit. She could actually probably get away with at least going for her neck…

She grunted as she suddenly felt Elsa's fingers tighten punishingly in her hair and yank her head back so she could look at her. It hurt. It also felt way fucking better than it should have, and she stared up at Elsa, mortified to hear a small whine tumble from her own lips.

Elsa lifted her free hand, the one that wasn't buried in Emma's hair, and ran her fingers delicately over Emma's exposed throat, over the places she had sucked bruises into a couple days before. Emma did her best not to shiver.

"You're not very good at listening," Elsa commented, voice betraying her breathlessness.

"To be fair, I have no idea what I'm supposed to be listening for," Emma told her, sort of wishing she'd pull at her hair a bit more, and straining a little against her hold in order to encourage it.

Elsa didn't fall for the bait, but she did bend her head down and nip sharply at Emma's ear, so that was at least something.

"_Who_ you're supposed to be listening _to_," the younger woman corrected. She straightened back up and Emma did her best not to lean forward and take the younger woman's nipple into her mouth, even though it was fucking _right there_ for her.

"The answer is me, by the way," Elsa continued quietly, "you're supposed to be listening to me."

Emma looked up at her carefully, something in Elsa's tone striking a surprising chord in her. All games aside, all teasing aside, all power plays aside…there really was something going on with Elsa right now.

She lifted her hands to circle carefully around Elsa's waist as she took in the young queen's expression.

"You _are_ mad at me," she realized.

And Elsa stared back at her, this beautiful mix of physical pleasure and emotional _displeasure_ etched across her features as she did. It was kind of startling, and Emma felt herself grip tighter at the younger woman's sides, trying to offer some kind of comfort even though she was pretty sure she was going about it all wrong.

Elsa made this really soft little sound at the feel of Emma's hands on her and licked her lips, seeming to gather her thoughts.

"What was that?" she asked finally, studying Emma carefully. "When you took my hand earlier."

Emma's stomach knotted and she ran her hands up Elsa's sides, focusing on tracing the delicate lines of muscle and bone. "What do you mean?" she asked absently, knowing full well what Elsa was referring to.

"When you took my hand. Something…happened," Elsa said vaguely, breath hitching slightly as Emma's hands wandered.

And Emma recognized a leading question when she heard one, but she wasn't about to give in, she wasn't fucking ready for that, not even close. She just focused on running her hands over Elsa, reaffirming how perfect she felt, pretending like she was considering the question, rather than answering it.

Because she fucking _knew_ what had happened back at the mansion when she'd taken Elsa's hand. She'd witnessed it enough around these parts, had felt it herself when she finally realized her love for Henry and broke the Dark Curse over Storybrooke. There were only so many reasons a pulse of magic like that shuddered through an entire town when two people came into contact. Actually it was really only _one_ reason. That…what did Henry call it…that TL thing.

When Elsa had taken her hand…that had been the TL thing.

And of course like, what did that even mean anyway, right, because…_true love_…came in all forms and all that, she'd felt it with her _son_ for Christ's sake. But with Elsa it had had…a different spin on it. A different feel. Not exactly comfortable. Even a little painful. But somehow extremely pleasant all the same.

And total relief when it subsided. Like everything had shifted back into place and was exactly where it was supposed to be. Like _she_ was exactly where she was supposed to be.

And Emma wasn't sure she liked that feeling. That feeling had made her cry, openly, in front of someone, just highlighting exactly how weak she really was, and that was too much, it was all way too much. And she'd been so torn between wanting to crumple with relief at having Elsa there beside her, and wanting to yell at her and shake her for putting herself in danger for her. For _her_. For _Emma. _That kind of thing just wasn't supposed to happen, she wasn't ever supposed to need to be _rescued_. Emma was the one who did the rescuing, it was never supposed to be the other way around.

She looked up at Elsa, noting the careful way the younger woman was regarding her, the way she was waiting for her to say something. And she could feel the words in her mouth, could feel them all over her, just over and over and over again, trying to voice what it had been- _I love you I love you I love you I love you_…But she couldn't say it. That was too much…too much weakness in one day. She couldn't do it.

"Just…magic, I guess," she answered finally, voice a very traitorous mumble. "It does that sometimes, with the colors, and the exploding, and whatever. Y'know."

Elsa held her gaze, biting her lower lip, this time very honestly self-conscious rather than with any kind of ulterior motive.

_I love you I love you I love you._

"I just…" Elsa murmured. She slipped her arms around Emma's neck and shifted impossibly closer into her, sighing. She kissed the corner of Emma's mouth, and then the other corner, and then pressed her mouth to Emma's ear, fingers clutching at her shoulders.

"I just really wish you'd listen to me," she whispered.

And then Emma finally got it.

This…thing…Elsa was doing…it had nothing to do with control, or sex, or even anger- it was that Elsa knew just as well as she did what that had been when they'd joined hands, and just like Emma, she had no idea how to actually say the words. So she was doing everything she could to convey it in any other way she possibly could.

And it was coming across clumsy, and it was coming across confrontational, and it was coming across possessive…and it was maybe Emma's favorite thing that had ever happened and she clutched Elsa tightly to her, mouthing over every inch of skin she had available to her.

_I love you I love you I love you._

"Emma…" Elsa protested half-heartedly as Emma ran her tongue up the tendon in her throat. The younger woman was apparently still grasping at some semblance of control because it was way too fucking scary to grasp for anything _but_ control right now, but she no longer seemed physically capable of keeping up her pretense, so Emma ignored her, because she had done enough _listening_ already to know exactly what was going on.

_I love you._

_I love you I love you._

_I love you._

She craned her neck and caught Elsa's lips with hers, pulling the younger woman against her as she laid back flat onto the mattress. And she could actually _feel_ Elsa's resolve melt away, getting all sweet and needy as she did, and Emma let her hands drift down to cup her ass, knowing she had her, and then skimmed them even further to rest behind her knees.

She applied some pressure to the backs of them, urging the younger woman to shuffle forward up her body, and more, and even more until she was positioned above her, knees on either side of Emma's head, center just inches above her mouth.

And it was obvious that Elsa was a little uncomfortable positioned over her like this- no matter what she'd been trying to establish before, she probably felt really exposed and awkward now. She seemed confused even, adorably so, finding herself very much _physically_ on top which was what she had been striving for, but somehow completely not in control at all. She looked beautiful though, and she was staring down at Emma with that familiar look of nervous but trusting determination that meant she was willing to do whatever Emma wanted, even if she wasn't completely sure about it.

And maybe this was selfish, but Emma really loved that look. She just really really fucking loved it.

Hands sliding back up to Elsa's hips, she eased the younger woman down over her mouth and tilted her head up, licking savoringly through slick warm folds.

Elsa choked out this really strangled-sounding cry as she did, lurching forward slightly, hips bucking against Emma's face as one hand flew down to tangle in Emma's hair, while the other shot out to grip clumsily at the headboard of the bed for support. Emma hummed happily at the feeling, drifting her hands back down to cradle Elsa's ass, using it to pull her in even closer.

And honestly, this was maybe a new favorite for Emma. There was absolutely _nothing_ but Elsa right now and that was…she didn't really know what else to call it, except for just a complete relief. She found herself thinking it again, completely unbidden, _I love you I love you_, and moaned deeply, losing herself in the rush of those unspoken words, and the taste of Elsa, nothing but Elsa.

This was as close as she could get to saying it, she hoped Elsa understood that, she hoped she could feel it. It was all she could manage for now.

Elsa didn't last long. She came suddenly, and fucking _hard_, and _loudly, _that was maybe the most surprising part. Elsa was always so careful about the volume of her voice, but this time she just came completely unraveled, crying out sharply, fingers digging into Emma's scalp as her hips thrust against Emma's mouth, thighs quaking.

Emma didn't stop her ministrations until Elsa mewled in protest, tugging at her hair to make her stop, sounding almost in pain from how much attention Emma was giving her. Honestly, Emma had kind of forgotten she was supposed to stop, wasn't even doing it to please Elsa anymore, was just doing it because it's all she _could_ do to counteract that pounding weight of _I love you I love you I love you_ in her brain.

Elsa must have reached her limits though because she was whining "Emma…" weakly under her breath, and trying to coax Emma away from her. So Emma stopped reluctantly, loosening her grip on her so that Elsa could shift off of her and collapse beside her on the mattress, chest heaving as she stared up at the ceiling.

Emma looked up at the ceiling too, wiping her hand across her mouth, for a moment absently wondering why it felt like something was missing before she realized it was because it wasn't snowing. She looked over at Elsa questioningly, almost feeling like the lack of snow-fall was a failure on her part before she took in the subtle glow of the ribbon around Elsa's wrist.

It caused this overly intense spark of anger to stir in her, to think that Ingrid's ribbons had enough control over both their powers that it had stolen that snow-fall from her. That snow-fall was _Elsa_, and it was kind of a mess, and a huge hazard, and probably a health risk if it got too out of hand, but Emma found herself missing it. This very silly, peculiar little quirk of Elsa's, and Emma missed it to the point of feeling incomplete without it.

Surprised by the strength of her reaction to the lack of snow-fall, she rolled over on her side, gathering Elsa into her arms, trying really stupidly to meld their bodies as close together as she possibly could, because she really wanted to say something but fucking couldn't and this was the next best thing.

Elsa seemed a little startled by her sudden…take-over…of her body, but quickly wrapped her arms around her in kind, and her legs, returning the gesture with just as much fervor, and it wasn't until she was literally almost _completely_ wrapped around Emma that Emma felt some sense of calm again. She shifted a little so that she was completely on top of the younger woman, because that way there was no way for Elsa to get away from her. Not that she was trying. But like, just in case. Emma just really wanted to make sure Elsa wasn't going anywhere.

"I do listen to you," she said softly, and those were _not_ the words she was going for.

But they were close, she guessed, and Elsa held her even tighter and laughed this odd little laugh that was still kind of out of breath, and part of it when she inhaled sounded a little bit like how people breathed when they were crying.

It was enough to make Emma want to try again.

"What I meant to say," she fumbled, "…what I'm trying to, y'know-"

She broke off, frustrated, and then froze, because she realized she was hearing a soft thumping outside her door.

She whipped her head around just in time to see Mary-Margaret creak open the door, cupping a mug in her hands and calling, "Emma, honey, I brought you some hot cocoa if you-"

Mary-Margaret croaked to a halt as her gaze fell on her daughter, in bed, with a very naked Elsa wrapped around her.

And just…Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit-

Emma's mouth fell open to try to say something, anything, but the shock of it had left her completely paralyzed. Except for her heart, which was thundering against her ribcage with what felt like enough intensity to break right through.

Mary-Margaret's jaw dropped, almost at the same that the mug in her hands dropped, shattering against the wood floor and spilling hot cocoa everywhere.

Son of a bitch, Emma thought stupidly. There went another one of her mugs.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**_ I am clearly determined to beat this mug-breaking motif to death. _

_...So, I clearly lied to you all last time when I told you I'd be better about updates…things got a little shady both at work and school so it's been a bit of a surprise hell-week for me. In any case, as always, very sorry for the delay in updating, I was in a mood because of personal bullshit, but I promise you all, I haven't been neglecting you on purpose. One of these days I really will update chapters within just a couple days of each other instead of a couple weeks…in the meantime, thanks as always for your continued support! Till next time!_


	11. Interlude - Part 4: Ingrid

**A/N:** _Another quick interlude not actually attached to any of the episodes, taking place in between episode 4x08/9 and 4x10._

_Also, WARNING for this one- the first 2 sections of the chapter are totally harmless, but the third section gets into more explicit detail about Ingrid and Elsa's history. If the whole incest thing is going to give you the heebies, you can probably skip over it, it's mostly my totally self-indulgent section just because I shipped Elsa and Ingrid like crazy at the beginning of the season, even before my heart was stolen by Elsa/Emma. So again, if Elsa/Ingrid is going to mess with you, feel free to skip over the last section of the chapter, it does inform some of the character development of Emma, Elsa, and Ingrid, but you won't be missing anything too terribly important plot-wise, so…it's totally up to you._

* * *

><p>"Oh look," Regina drawled as she opened her door and found Emma sitting on her doorstep. "It's you again."<p>

Emma got to her feet, brushing her jeans off awkwardly and raising her hand in a tentative wave, which she realized too late was a very weird thing to do.

"Me again," she confirmed needlessly.

Regina appraised her for a moment. "You look dreadful," she finally settled on.

Emma nodded. "Yeah, I…feel pretty dreadful."

Regina pursed her lips, holding up the lunchbox that was in her hand. "Henry forgot his lunch," she said. "I'm just headed out to bring it to him."

Emma nodded. "Oh, okay," she murmured, beginning to turn away.

She heard Regina sigh loudly behind her. "…Would you like to accompany me and tell me what's on your mind?" the Queen offered, and there was a little less exasperation in her tone than Emma would have expected.

She glanced back at her, and Regina was indeed looking at her tight-lipped, but at least _somewhat_ invitingly, or at least as close to inviting as Regina could get.

So Emma nodded, jamming her hands in her pockets. "Yeah. Please."

* * *

><p>It took the entire walk to the school in order to get Regina caught up on everything. And for once Regina actually just let her speak for the most part, with only a couple grimaces, three quick snide remarks, and…well, admittedly several eyerolls, but she seemed to at least be <em>trying<em> to keep those to herself.

Emma waited outside the school while Regina ran in to deliver Henry's lunchbox, because the risk of running into Mary-Margaret in there was way too high and only made her feel kind of sick to her stomach. She kicked at the dirt absently while she waited, pinching the bridge of her nose as her brain sought to replay everything from last night. And this morning.

Fortunately, Regina didn't take long inside, and returned to her before Emma could get herself too worked up.

"So you're down to your last mug," Regina prompted without preamble once she got back, immediately beginning the return trip home while Emma scrambled to catch up to her. "What happened next?"

Emma shrugged stiffly, falling into step with her. "I dunno…my mom just backed out of the room and closed the door," she said, "didn't even say a word. The look on her face though…it was bad. Elsa had no idea what to do, she just picked up her clothes and went back to her room. I got up to try to talk to my mom- I mean, I had no idea what the hell I was going to say, but…didn't matter anyway, she'd closed herself in her room and didn't answer the door when I knocked. When I woke up this morning, none of them were there. My mom, I guess left really early for work…my dad too…and Elsa was also gone. And then I cut my foot on a piece of broken mug, just to make things extra perfect."

Regina halted, looking suddenly wary. "Your emotionally unpredictable ice girlfriend is running around loose?" she asked critically. "Do I need to be concerned she's about to plunge all of Storybrooke into another ice age?"

Emma shook her head. "I found her a couple hours ago," she said. "She decided to stay at Granny's for a while, thought she probably shouldn't be at the apartment until I got the chance to work things out with my parents."

That was the short version of it anyway. The long version was that Granny had put up a stink about the whole situation, demanding that Emma sign an agreement that she'd fix the destroyed room before the month was out before she agreed to rent it to Elsa, though once Emma conceded, she was actually fairly affable.

The even longer version was that Elsa was almost beside herself with guilt and could barely look at Emma, wouldn't even let her in the room to talk. She'd just stood there in the doorway, arms crossed protectively over herself, looking like she'd probably been crying, and told her she'd promised she would never do anything to put Emma's relationship with her family in danger, and now that she had, she was going to stay away from her, because she couldn't live with herself if she continued to be the cause of any pain between them.

And Emma had tried to argue with her, but Elsa closed the door in her face, shaking her head sorrowfully, so then Emma had shouted at her through the door and tried kicking it down until Granny came up and demanded that she leave.

And maybe Emma had found herself almost crying a little bit. And then maybe she'd found her way to Regina's because she was fucking sick and tired of almost getting everything back to normal only to have it all disappear on her again.

"She's quite considerate, your girlfriend," Regina mused, breaking Emma out of her thoughts, and beginning to stroll forward again.

"She thinks this is her fault," Emma told her. "I mean, Jesus, you should have seen her, Regina. She's blaming herself for my bullshit. I should've just told my parents a long time ago, finding out like this is just…a fucking mess…"

"On the upside, I now know to get you mugs for your birthday," Regina said.

Emma gave her a look, but then let herself smile a really little bit after a second, because she guessed that was kind of funny.

"So you haven't spoken with Mary-Margaret or David," Regina prompted her.

"Like I said, they weren't exactly around to speak _to_."

"And you're assuming they're avoiding you."

Emma shrugged. "I was up at 7 this morning and no one was there. My dad didn't have to be at the sheriff's station till 9, my mom didn't have to be at school till 8…there's _no_ reason for them not to have been there. They're definitely avoiding me."

"Well you do live with them," Regina pointed out, "they can't avoid you forever."

"They can sure as hell kick me out though."

Regina scoffed. "This is Snow White and Prince Charming we're talking about, Emma," she said. "I highly doubt they'd be willing to give you up just like that."

"They've done it before."

Regina paused, looking at her seriously.

"They've done it before," Emma said again before Regina could weigh in, "and I know it was necessary, and that they regretted it then, but _this_ time, they have another kid. A kid without magic. And a kid who…I mean I guess it's too early to tell now, but I mean…_probably_ isn't gay. And I've already done my Savior thing. They don't need me anymore."

Regina regarded her closely. "No, I suppose they don't," she conceded after a time. "But that's not really how family works."

"They've only known me a couple years," Emma said. "And they met me as an adult. Basically damaged goods. I don't have a whole lot to offer them in the way of being their daughter, especially now, especially if they see this as…I don't know…as being just another thing that's wrong with me."

Regina was silent a long time. And Emma found that…terrifying.

"What, no snarky words of wisdom for me, Madam Mayor?" she asked, trying to sound like she was teasing, but falling a little flat.

"You need to talk to your parents."

"That's not very snarky. And I can't, not if they're gonna dodge me at every turn. And even if I do finally get them to talk to me, then what? I want to make everything right between me and them, but I'm not going to apologize for this, I love Elsa."

Regina glanced at her and she realized what exactly she'd just said. Out loud. Completely without thought, and without hesitation.

"…I love her," she said again, trying out the sound of it, and hating that she was pretty sure she was blushing really brightly. "I love her, and I'm not going to let go of her, not even for them. And I don't…Jesus, I don't want it to be a choice between them, I never want it to be like that, but I just really…I really wish they'd see that I love her, and that they'd love her too. Like that…should be the only thing that matters."

Regina raised an eyebrow, looking at her blandly. "So tell them that," she suggested.

Emma hesitated. "Yeah, I…guess…"

Regina nodded, shrugging carelessly. "There you go, I think you just managed to give yourself your own words of wisdom," she drawled. "Congratulations."

* * *

><p>She tried Elsa once more at Granny's. Granny didn't let her get as far as the stairs before kicking her out though, and anyway, she knew Elsa wouldn't have responded, she'd just wanted to give it a shot.<p>

It made her angry, in a way, just thinking how last night Elsa had told her she wasn't allowed to run away, and now that she _wasn't_ running away, now that she was actually taking a fucking stand, or trying to, Elsa had taken it upon herself to remove herself from the situation. Out of some really misguided sense of responsibility and…nobility.

The two of them were just never _quite_ in sync. Always really fucking close. But never quite there.

Emma returned home, trying to force herself to feel less defeated than she was, and sat down on the couch downstairs. She was ten feet from the door, there was no way her parents would be able to avoid her. She'd just stake it out here until they came home, and then she'd…do…something. And then everything would be okay, and happily ever after, whatever, etcetera, blahblahblah.

(Convincing herself everything was going to be alright would be a hell of a lot easier if she wasn't so fucking cynical. Jesus Christ.)

Realizing this might be kind of a long stake out, she took off her jacket, tossing it over the arm of the couch.

She froze when she heard something hard fall out of the pocket and roll to the floor.

Tilting over the edge of the cushions curiously, she saw that whatever it was had skittered just under the couch out of reach. She couldn't imagine it was anything all that important, probably like a button come loose or something, but like, at least it was something to do while she waited for her parents to come home, or for her own anxieties to swallow her up, so she tilted further over, angling her arm to get at the mysterious object.

Whatever it was had shattered on impact, and was in tiny fragments she realized as her hand finally came into contact with it. She caught a piece of it and dragged it back toward her, picking it up between her thumb and forefinger and settling back against the couch to look at it.

It was purplish, smooth where it wasn't shattered, and all of a sudden Emma recognized it as a piece of that rock Ingrid had tried to offer her when she'd been interrogating her a few days ago. She'd said it was memories of Elsa, "proof" that she loved her, had never hurt her.

Emma frowned. She distinctly remembered having refused to accept the rock, and wasn't sure how it had ended up in her pocket.

She moved to put it down, because she wasn't sure she could actually handle dealing with someone else's memories of Elsa when she was having a hard enough time holding onto her in the present, but when she looked down, she realized she was no longer sitting on the couch.

Jumping inwardly, she glanced around to find that, not only was she no longer sitting on the couch, she wasn't even in the apartment anymore.

If she had to take a guess, she'd say she was in a conference room inside a cavernous and expansive stone castle.

Of course she was in a fucking castle. Because _that_ made sense. Where the hell else would she be?

Fucking magic.

Her breath caught in her throat when she looked over and saw Elsa standing at the table, Ingrid behind her, hand resting on her lower back. A small, gentle spiral of snow and ice whirled in Elsa's outstretched hand, and the younger woman was watching it with a look of intense focus, lips pressed together in concentration.

Unthinkingly, Emma tried to call out to her, tried to move forward, get to her somehow, but she was unable to speak or move her limbs. Because this was a memory, she realized. Somehow just by touching that broken fragment of rock, she'd gotten herself caught up in the memories contained in it.

Ingrid's memories.

She struggled to find some way out of this, not wanting to be part of it, it seemed like she was trespassing on something she had no right to- but though the image in front of her shuddered and crackled slightly for a moment like she was watching an old film, there didn't seem to be a way for her pull herself out of it.

She watched as Ingrid reached forward and closed her hand over the spiral in Elsa's palm, extinguishing it like she was extinguishing a flame. Elsa looked back at her over her shoulder and grinned and there was nothing Emma could do about the burst of jealousy she felt at seeing that smile directed at someone else, someone who wasn't her.

It was nothing compared to the jealousy she felt when Ingrid skimmed her hands up Elsa's arms and leaned her head against Elsa's temple, making the younger woman blush and laugh nervously.

"Well?" Elsa asked, very obviously trying to downplay her nervousness by talking over it.

Ingrid angled her head so she was looking at Elsa's still-outstretched palm, but keeping close enough so that her cheek stayed pressed to Elsa's.

"Your control's getting much better," Ingrid told her, raising the hand that had been resting at Elsa's lower back up to stroke through her hair. Emma saw Elsa's eyes flutter slightly at the simple touch and was reminded suddenly that this was a much younger Elsa she was seeing, one who was still coming off of 13 years of having been completely without physical contact. Emma had never thought that Ingrid might have been the source of Elsa's addiction to _touch_, but she guessed Elsa wouldn't have remembered that anyway.

Ingrid began to say something else to the younger woman, but all of a sudden, the image shuddered again, this time disrupting it and a quick succession of what seemed to be disjointed pieces of other memories flooded Emma's senses before settling enough that Emma was able to get her bearings again, now finding herself in what looked to be the throne room.

It must have been because the rock was shattered, she realized suddenly- rather than being privy to any complete memories, all she was seeing were fragments. Some lasted longer than others, some lasted barely long enough for her to glimpse what was going on, but as she was wrenched from one to another, she started to be able to put together a narrative, and found herself transfixed. Fragmented or no, what she was seeing was extraordinarily telling, and she couldn't help but feel something startlingly close to sympathy for Ingrid.

The majority of what she saw was harmless enough, which she was thankful for- snippits of conversation, Ingrid helping Elsa get better control over her magic, sweet moments that could almost pass for being strikingly ordinary.

Before long, however, the bits of memory she was seeing became less innocent. And at first, the jarring sight of someone else's hands on Elsa, of Elsa taking _pleasure_ in someone else's touch, was enough to make Emma _hurt_ from jealousy. But as time went by, she started to notice a particular pattern between them- when Ingrid had told her that she and Elsa _completed_ each other, Emma had chalked that up to Ingrid's tendency towards obsession. Seeing it now in front of her, she realized Ingrid hadn't been exaggerating at all. They really did complete one another.

When it came to sex, what they had was less about the feeling they were chasing, and more about the constant need for _touch_ in any and every form, whether gentle or punishing, teasing, or even platonic, and the constant need for reassurance. As sweetly affectionate and doting as Ingrid was toward Elsa normally, she was almost ruthlessly dominant during sex, but in a strangely cold, controlled way. She never hurt her, but she demanded a lot, often pushing Elsa far past what the younger woman was comfortable with.

Unlike Elsa, Ingrid wasn't concerned with modesty or concealing their affair in the least, and more than once had ordered the younger woman to continue pleasuring her even in the presence of one hapless member of the staff or another who had unknowingly stumbled upon them in the dining room, or the throne room, or elsewhere. The times that this happened, Elsa always looked stunned and humiliated, but she always obeyed while Ingrid relaxed into her touch, staring daggers at their unwilling audience, like she was challenging them to something.

"They need to know you're mine," Ingrid told her in more than one memory when they were alone again, lifting Elsa's chin to look at her and stroking her cheek. "You've been far too lenient with them over the years, they no longer fear you, not as much as they should. They do, however, fear me, and as long as they know you're mine, they won't dare do anything to harm you."

"Anyone who isn't _us_ is a danger, Elsa," she said other times. "And I love you far too much to leave your safety up to chance. You can't begin to understand how precious you are to me."

And Elsa always looked shaken by these experiences in particular, but more than that, she just seemed to need so badly to have Ingrid's approval that she would always nod obediently and try to find some way to nuzzle in even closer to the Snow Queen.

No matter what transpired between them, however, Ingrid always seemed desperate for one thing and one thing only, and that was for Elsa to tell her she loved her. It was the only time Ingrid's demeanor ever dropped to anything less than entirely in control, and she would whisper pleadingly to Elsa "Tell me, Elsa, tell me."

And Elsa, always so eager to please, would tell her without a moment's hesitation.

And for a time, that hurt too, hearing the two of them so easily capable of telling each other they loved each other, when Emma and Elsa in the present could barely _find_ the words, let alone express them. But that seemed to be a part of the pattern Emma was noticing too- the two of them comforted each other, ever-so-slightly-warped mirror images of one another. Every aspect of them really did _complete_ the other one, to the point that rather than filling Emma with disgust, it started to make sense to her in a way. The fact that they were related was never a point of controversy, it was _necessary,_ because it was safe. They seemed to both find a sense of permanence in it, a reassurance that the other one would never leave, because they belonged to each other in more ways than one.

With that realization, Emma felt her jealousy start to abate a little. She was looking at _need_ here, these two women who had been through nearly the same exact experiences, and needed the same kind of relief, the same kind of comfort, the same opportunity to heal. The difference was that Ingrid was embittered by their similar experiences, while Elsa still had yet to lose faith in the people around her. They were each one another's potential version of themselves- suddenly it wasn't so hard to see why they would be so important to one another.

And it was so different from what _Emma_ had with Elsa. It was disturbing in a lot of ways, but it really did make sense, and in a really strange way, almost reassured Emma. Because Emma didn't _need_ anything from Elsa, she wasn't _looking_ to be completed. She just…really loved her, not for any purpose, not to fulfill any need. She just loved her. That was all.

After what seemed like hours, a final shudder went through the string of memories Emma was wrapped up in and she abruptly found herself back on the couch of the apartment.

She looked down warily at the tiny piece of memory rock still in her hands and walked over to the trash, throwing it inside and wiping her hands on her jeans like it had left some kind of residue or something on her.

So that was the last time she was ever going to touch anything ever. _Ever_. What the _fuck_.

Like, was this a thing now, that when she already felt like shit, another thing just _had_ to happen on top of it to make her…confused and uneasy among other things? Aside from _what_ she'd seen, it felt odd to think that she now had memories of Elsa's life that _Elsa_ didn't even have, and that made her feel guilty for some reason. If Elsa could see parts of _Emma's_ past, even parts that Emma remembered, Emma would feel pretty ashamed, and on top of that, pretty violated.

Clearly Ingrid had found some way to slip the memory rock to her…probably, she guessed, when they were in the car and Emma had wrongly assumed she was dreaming…but it was strange to think that these were things Ingrid actually intended for her to see. Maybe she thought it would show her how much they actually needed each other, but Emma couldn't help but think that, while that _need_ might have been true at one point, Elsa wasn't like that anymore. Elsa didn't need to be completed by anyone, and neither did Emma.

_Ingrid _was the one who needed _them_.

For once, the Snow Queen didn't seem quite so invincible. If anything, she now seemed kind of…fragile. And Emma wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

She glanced at the clock, wondering how long that little trip down memory lane had taken, only to find that it was no more than a few seconds past when she'd first sat down. Made sense, she guessed, since she'd just had a bunch of memories shoved in her brain all at once, she hadn't actually been _doing_ anything.

She jumped slightly as the phone rang, finding it jarring enough that every muscle in her body tensed up. And she knew it was a phone, not another memory rock, but she still picked it up kind of gingerly. Just in case.

"Hello?" she asked a little warily into the receiver.

"I think I've just found a perfect opportunity for you to speak with your parents."

Regina's voice. Fucking hello to you too.

"How's that?" she asked, rubbing her face with her hand, feeling a headache coming on.

"There's a giant purple curse cloud filled with glass headed for the town, and we're all headed for the clock tower to figure out how the hell we're going to survive it," Regina informed her. "You're invited."

* * *

><p><strong>more AN: **_ON A COMPLETELY UNRELATED NOTE…Guys. I totally just now remembered that the Charmings' apartment is a loft, not a multiple bedroom type of place. What kind of lies have I been feeding you for the past 11 chapters? Also why did I forget that was a thing? Whatever, just pretend Geppetto and the dwarfs built some additions to the apartment or something for season 4 okay, it's WAY too late for me to change it now. Oops. (I'm so ashamed) (I clearly have no idea how buildings work) (Also I'm bad at listening) (It has literally always been a loft) (They talk about it all the time) (What is wrong with me)_


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